Torn Apart
by Miss Pontmercy
Summary: When circumstances call for Cosette to marry someone else, what happens? Cosette has an idea... and it's sinful.
1. The Future Steps Into Their Dreams

**I wanted to write this, because of historical accuracy... I thought that, if Cosette didn't have a dowry, she would doubtlessly have had a different future. If they did not go to England, what would have happened? The garden visits would have continued, but eventually some kind of permanant plan would have had to been made. Valjean was already in his sixties... **

**Anyway, just ignore canon with the book, other than what happens up to their going to England. And I doubt M. Gillenormond will make an appearence, but don't quote me on that. Let's see where this goes!**

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**One evening, when Marius was making his way to the rue Plumet on a crisp, cold November day, he found Cosette in tears.

"What's wrong?" he asked, taking her hand. They'd never had a sad night yet, and he'd been coming for nearly seven months.

She sat down on the bench, made him sit down next to her, took his hand, and tearfully began. "My father is ill."

Marius knew this- he'd been ill since September. Apparently he'd been getting chilled and had been coughing a lot. She'd suspected it to be a common cold, but when he began having shooting stomach pains, she'd began to worry. Had he taken a turn for the worse?

"I'm sorry," he whispered, but she shushed him.

"I'm not finished! He is ill, and he talked to me today about arrangements for me, following his death. We don't have much money, you know, and he started telling me about what I was going to do. What he'd arranged for me."

Marius shivered, feeling the meaning of her next words but not letting himself believe them.

"I am marrying another man in three weeks. It's all been arranged," she said, her voice breaking.

Marius did not answer for a long time. He sat on the bench, staring at the ground. He felt Cosette's eyes on him, but he could not look at her just yet. Instead, he stood, and kicked the nearby tree in a gesture that was supposed to make him feel better, but did not.

"What did you say when he told you this? Did you just… go along with it?" Marius demanded, his anger and hopelessness so acute that he was directing it at the wrong person; the wrong person entirely. However, he just couldn't believe it- he'd been with her long enough now that he couldn't see his life without her, or her life without him. And this just reminded him- she did not belong to him. She belonged to her father, and soon would belong to someone else. Another man.

"No!" she gasped. "I pleaded for hours- all day today I have been crying, pleading. I screamed at him- _I!_ I've never screamed at him before, never. We've never had a fight. On one hand, I feel dreadfully guilty, and on the other, I can't imagine he would do this to me. I threw fits. Then I realized I was being childish- so I prayed to God for a solution. I plan to act like an adult, and tomorrow talk to him more thoroughly."

Marius as quiet. "Who are you marrying?" he asked, knowing that, no matter who it was, he would hate them.

"A man my father knows," she said in a small voice. It turned quickly to disgust. "He is old- much older than you. Maybe thirty? I don't know. He works in the French Navy. He is rich- not that I care. He could be the king and have mountains of money and I would not want any of it. The trouble is, as angry and betrayed as I feel, I can't really be angry with my father. Of course, he did not consult me at all, but from his point of view… He doesn't know I love you. He is just thinking that I need someone to care for me when he'd gone. And this man, you see, seems perfectly nice. To my father, he's respectful, kind to me and most of all, can take care of me. But there's something in his eyes that tells me he's not who he appears to be. He's not nearly as kind as he wants my father to believe. But most of all, he's not you."

Marius would not hear any of it. He could not fathom that Monsieur Fauchelevent's actions were benevolent in any way- not when he was causing this much pain. Instead, he just paced angrily for a long time.

"I know what you're thinking," she said, shaking her head. "That my father is cruel! And I wish I could think that, but it's just not true. He is not cruel. He wants me to have a good life, and he only knows one way to give it to me. He knows I won't be happy this way, but what else could he do?"

He didn't answer.

"Marius," she whispered. "I am so unhappy. He knows this. Maybe… would you… Well, I'm not the one suggesting…but if he would say yes, would you be willing to… to, maybe. Well, instead of marrying _him,_ I'd rather- would you…?"

"Marry you?" Marius asked, stopping his pacing and looking at her. "In a heartbeat. I've thought about it a lot, almost daily."

This surprised Cosette, since up until today, she had not thought of marriage at all. It had been far beyond the horizon.

"I would have asked long ago, if I'd even thought he would have said yes. But he won't."

"Why?" Cosette pleaded. "If we love each other-"

"Money, Cosette. Money," Marius said, and she knew he was right.

For two weeks, their precious time slipped by. Cosette learned that this truly was happening, and that it wasn't a cruel joke. Her father denied each time she asked for any kind of consultation.

"I don't want to tell him about us," Cosette said. "Because if he finds out, he'll be so angry, and then we'll be forbidden from seeing each other. I don't want to ruin what little time we have left." She told Marius how she hinted that she was in love with someone else, and her father said that unless he could support her, he would hear none of it. She'd replied saying that living a life without love would kill her. He said life without food would kill her faster, and she could not argue.

She knew her father was right in thinking what he was thinking. What were they to do?


	2. Goodbyes

One night with a week to spare before their last night together, Cosette would not look at Marius.

"What is it?" he said, taking her chin in his hand and forcing her to meet his eyes. "We have so little time left- _please_ look at me. Don't keep secrets."

"Sorry," she apologized, and blushed. "But it's terrible. I can't even… you'll be horrified and you won't want to hear it."

"Just tell me."

"My father told me today what happens… between a man and a woman," she finished, her words rushed. Marius blushed. Then, his insides crawled when he realized _why_ they'd had this discussion- to prepare her for her wedding night. Cosette wrinkled her nose in disgust. "I despise this man, my betrothed. I won't do it. I won't let him touch me."

Marius stood and faced away from her, so that he could say the words he needed to. "You have to, Cosette."

She gasped. "What? Not you, too!"

He turned, his eyes burning with anger, but this time it was passionate. "Cosette, don't you understand? You have no choice- and you have to do it, because if you don't, you'll be treated awfully. Does he have a temper?"

"I've only seen him on occasions when he's trying to be very polite. But he _does_ work for the navy-"

"He'll force you, Cosette. Or hit you. At the very least, scream at you. I never thought I'd say this," he said, getting down on his knees in front of her. "But give yourself over to him, Cosette, only because things will only be worse for you if you don't."

She shut her eyes to avoid his commanding gaze. Then, "You really love me, don't you?" she said, as though she was realizing it for the first time.

"With all my heart," he said softly.

It took a lot of strength for her to say the next words. "Then do it with me first."

At first, he didn't understand. "_What?"_

"You heard me," she said, meeting his eyes. "Do it with me first. So I at least have that memory, and can associate it with love instead of lust. Or duty."

"Cosette- I can't believe you could _say_ that-"

"Why?" she demanded. "Because it's sinful? Well, hear this, and _listen,_" she took his hands. "No matter what I promise in church in a week, no matter what it says under the law, that man is not my husband. Yes, legally, he might be, but in my heart, that is always going to be you. Nothing will change that- not a marriage certificate, nothing. And by marrying this man to stay alive, it's killing me. But if we can find a way to stay together, amidst all this, maybe we can survive."

He looked at her for a long time, and then responded. "No matter how much I may hate this man, I am not the type of man to sneak behind someone's back and sleep with his wife! It's dishonest and it's wrong."

Her eyes fired. "Then think of me as your wife, who has to pretend to be married to someone else. Because that's what's true. And know this- he works in the navy. He is not at sea all the time, for he is not a common marine, but there are long stretches of time when he is away. They happen frequently, too-"

"Cosette," Marius began, but fell short. This was beginning to make sense. It was too tempting.

"Marius," she said, looking into his eyes. "Please- don't think of me as cheap, or loose-"

"Cosette, I couldn't, I know you're not-"

"But you _might,"_ she said. "So hear this. I just learned about this today, and all I could think about was how I could not let him touch me. But maybe if _you_ did, first, then I'll have something to get me through."

"He'll know if you've done it before," Marius said.

"How?" Cosette asked. "I'll be frightened enough at the prospect- he'll believe it."

Marius let that sit. He also knew, but wouldn't go into specifics, that if she was not aroused at all, it would hurt her. She wouldn't be- not if she was terrified- and then he would think she was pure.

"Where would we go?" he asked simply.

"My father does not sleep in the house," she said. "You could come to my room."

He did not give her an answer that night. They didn't even discuss it the next night, or for the week following. But on their final night together, both knew what they would be doing.

He slipped through the bars of the gate, and she gave him a weak smile.

"Here we are," he whispered, staring at her sadly. He drank her in, standing by the bench, because he knew it would be the last time he'd see her waiting like this.

"Our last-"

"Hush," he said, stepping forward and putting his hand over her lips. "Don't say it. Not yet, anyway. We still have hours."

She closed her eyes so no tears could slip through- hours were not enough. Then, she opened them, remembering she had good news.

"Marius! Guess what I did today?"

"I don't know," he said, taking her hands and leading her down to sit next to him on the bench.

"I set up a post office box. A secret one. I told Toussaint that it was to receive letters from Papa, but she doesn't know I made _that_ post office box a week ago, with him. No one knows about this but me, so there is no way _he_ will ever find out. You can write me whenever you wish, and I can receive letters from you. Will you?"

"Write?" Marius asked, his hopes turning upwards a bit. "I didn't even think of that. Of course!" He took his booklet from the pocket in his coat and tore out a page, writing down his address for her. Then, she gave him her new post office number.

Then, they sat down and she laid her head on his shoulder.

"Did you mean what you said before? Last week?" Marius asked nervously.

She took her head up and looked him in the eye. "Yes," she said. "I did. Do you understand why I asked?"

"Of course I do," he said, but he understood for a different reason, a more selfish reason. Cosette wanted to experience love, to have something to take with her when she left him. He wanted that, too; but more so, he wanted to have a small victory over this man, this man who would be her husband. He wanted to know that he, at least, had been her first choice.

What was worse was his inner dilemma: he did not want Cosette be terribly unhappy with this man, or rather, unhappy at all. He wanted her to live a happy life. Worse- what if her husband was a drunk, or had an anger problem? What if he _hurt_ her? Physically or otherwise, he didn't want this man to hurt her. But if he was kind to her and treated her well- what if she fell in love with him? That would break him in a different way.

"You understand," she whispered, breaking through his thoughts. "But does that man…?"

He couldn't bring himself to say anything, because he could not admit that he was going to be sleeping with someone else's fiancé in just a few minutes. He couldn't believe that Cosette was someone else's fiancé- she seemed so much a part of him, Marius, that the thought was astounding. Moreover, he could not believe that he had the nerve to sleep with Cosette, the angel, the perfect. Instead, he pressed his lips to hers and held her tightly.

The night was wondrous. He followed her into her bedroom, and then they slowly undressed each other as they brushed their lips over each other's skin. They explored each other, and made love in an imperfect way that was filled with love, laughs at awkward little mishaps, and glimpses of the ecstasy they could reach together. There were glimmers of the stars and the angels when they kissed, and there was no fear on either of their parts. No tears were shed, for they vowed not to speak of what was coming.

At two in the morning, Cosette yawned and laid her head on Marius's chest, pulling the blankets around them and closing her eyes.

"You are going to sleep?" he asked, slightly hurt. Their time was running out- they had so little time left together, and she wanted to sleep?

"Yes," she said. "Because I wanted this memory, but I also want the memory of sleeping with you, and waking up in your arms, in the same bed. Sharing the place where I dream with you. Please let me have that, too."

He kissed the top of her head and held her tighter. Finally, they both fell asleep.

In the morning, their tears were shed. When Cosette awoke, she felt Marius' hand brushing up and down her back. When she opened her eyes to look at him, she saw he was staring at her with tears on his cheeks, pouring from his eyes.

"Oh," she cried softly. "Don't cry. Please don't cry, don't cry... don't cry," she said, her voice breaking on the last one. She wrapped her arms around him as tears began to fall from her eyes, too and they rocked back and forth.

Then, she realized she would be expected down for breakfast in an hour and a half- meaning that they had to get up and get Marius out of the house before anyone else woke up. More tears were unstoppable, and they fell down their faces thick and fast.

"I'll never forget this," Cosette said, her voice thick. "But we'll still find a way to be together, won't we?"

He didn't see how, but he agreed.

"As soon as you can, write me," he said, as they stood outside her gate in her garden. "Let me know how you are- if you're alright."

She nodded. "You'll write me too, won't you?"

"Of course," he said, then looked at her seriously. "I'll be thinking of you today, all day. My prayers are with you, because I know how hard today is going to be for you."

"I'll pray for you, too," she promised. "Because the next years aren't going to be easy for either of us."

He pulled her into another, last embrace, gave her a kiss, and then reached for the broken bar of the gate. He put one foot out of it, but then turned around right away and looked at her.

"If he does anything wrong- if he hurts you, tell me. If he's cruel, I'll just-"

She rested a hand on his lips, quieting him. "We both know you can't do anything about that," she said sadly. "But so you won't worry, I'll tell you," she finished, knowing it was likely that, should anything seriously horrible happen with her husband, she would not tell Marius. He would do something rash that got them both into trouble, or something of the like.

He stared at her one more time in the early morning light, wanting to reach out and take her away with him, but then turned and left.

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**Hey! I'd love to hear your thoughts/ideas. There's much more coming in this story... MUCH more! Hope you like it. Please write something!**


	3. Marcel LeFantou

All throughout the day, Cosette managed to keep herself free from tears and free from discovery about what had happened the previous night. She became a mask, smiling politely and blushing when appropriate. She let the housekeeper dress her beautifully, and did not react when she was put into the carriage on the way to the church.

She'd decided that, should anything ever become too stressful, she would say a quick prayer asking for strength. If that didn't work, she could leave reality and relive the previous night- or better yet, envision as future that now would never happen. So she had various fantasies going throughout the day of herself and Marius.

Only once did she break- right before the ceremony was about to start, she grabbed her father's arm desperately. It was a thin arm now, and he winced in pain. She loosened her grip, but her intensity did not shift.

"Please, Papa," she begged. "Do not make me do this."

He looked away sadly, and wiped tears from his own eyes, before coughing into his handkerchief. "I wish I could do something different, my dear. Please... do not hate me for this forever," he said, beseechingly. "I love you- please find it in your heart to forgive me."

She looked at him and gave him no answer, but she knew in her heart that she could forgive him. She loved him, and though he was putting her straight through hell, she could not hate him. So she gathered her strength and walked down the aisle, reciting a group of meaningless vows.

"Do you, Mademoiselle Cosette Fauchelevent take Monsieur Marcel LeFantou to be your lawfully wedded wife?"

"I do," she said, swallowing the scream that threatened to escape. Her husband was dark haired and had light brown eyes, which stared at her with immense concentration- not passion. He recited his vows mechanically, and held her hand without any strength behind it. She felt nothing for him- a bit of disgust upon imagining what it would be like to sleep with him, but she couldn't even summon hatred for him. He evoked nothing from her.

She managed to have some fun at the party, talking to people (that was new enough for her, anyway) and eating delicious food. But every time she thought of the coming night, her stromach would clench in terror.

At last, her husband tugged her away from the party. This was what she had feared the most.

The night was not any less difficult than she'd imagined it would be. There were several times when she thought she was going to be sick, her fear was so potent. When his hands caressed her skin, she wanted to heave. She shook when he removed her nightgown, averted her eyes when he removed his nightshirt, and she let out a pained grunt when he lay atop her, putting all his weight on her and leaving her hot and without breath. It was obvious to both that they found it awkward and uncomfortable- he did as well. But his awkwardness paled in comparison to hers. He still enjoyed the sight of her naked, whereas she was horrified by the sight of him.

When it was over, she put her nightgown back on right away, to prevent anything else from happening. Then, she rolled away from him, so he could not see her cry herself to sleep.

* * *

Marius had been walking for hours, just to give his body something to do, to balance the overactive work his brain was doing. This was torture.

_How could I have done that?_ he asked himself in horror. _To sleep with Cosette..._ he thought, so surprised. _At least it's better than having her as a mistress or something of the sort- this was definitely mutual. Not any kind of... service. Right?_

Sleeping with her at the end of their relationship, did it cheapen what they had before? _Was this what it been leading up to all along?_ He wondered, worried. _Our wonderful relationship, leading up to going to bed together, and no more?_

_No, no, of course not._

He consoled himself on one aspect. He knew that, should the circumstances had been different in any way, they would not have done this. He would never have slept with her in any other situation, unless they were married. But there was no way for them to get caught, or have the repercussions, and, well... it would make things easier for them both. Especially for her.

And it had been wonderful.

But the wonderful of it also cursed Marius- they had sealed whatever bond had been between them. That night had consummated the marriage between them, the churchless, certificate-less marriage that they had. He could not stand to be away from her. He could not stop thinking about her- her laugh; her eyes; her soft, white hands; the words she would say that always grabbed him by the heart; her skin, golden in the candlelight; when she gasped out his name without realizing it...

It was cruel, cruel torture.

He threw himself down into a bench that overlooked at field. He let out a bitter laugh when he realized what field it was- the Field of the Lark.

_Of course I end up here, _he thought.

"God," he asked aloud. "Why do you hate me so much?"

Then the clock struck midnight, and that put other thoughts into his mind.

_Midnight. On Cosette's wedding night. She's probably with _him_ now. Alone..._

The thought made him sick- he wanted to strangle this man he'd never met. His heart picked up speed, his palms started sweating, his vision even fogged.

_Stop!_ he commanded himself. _You have to control this jealousy, or it's going to kill you. How will you make it through the future like this?_

* * *

Cosette awoke in the morning, and rolled over in bed before realizing where exactly she was. The memories ploughed over her like all of the misfortune in the world.

But she was alone in bed. Sitting up, she blushed to see Marcel dressing. She promptly looked away, wanting nothing to do with him.

"Sorry," he said.

She shook her head, as though to say 'don't be.'

"We're... um... breakfasting in half an hour," he reported gently.

She nodded. "I'll be down."

He looked at her sadly for a moment, and her heart pounded, instantly wondering if, somehow, he knew. But then he just shook his head.

"You're so young," he said, sadly again. "I'm..." But he couldn't bring himself to say 'sorry.' Still, the word hung in the air. Then, he shook his head, and left the room quickly, as to avoid as much awkwardness as he could.

Cosette was grateful for the alone time. She dressed, and looked herself straight in the mirror.

"Well, you survived," she said aloud. "Can you make it through the rest?"

* * *

_My Darling Marius,_

_I've missed you so. These days are boring, tedious, and long. I keep looking at the clock, wondering what time to go out to the garden, and then I remember. I hope you're fairing better than I, just because one of us should be healthy. However, my life is not terrible. My husband treats me... well, he does not treat me with much. I endure him, and he spends very little time with me. I know what the rules of the house are, and what I can do, but other than that he lets me alone. I have not seen much of a temper out of him yet, which I am grateful for._

_I mentioned that he was in the Navy, and how that might come in handy. On January fifth he goes away for a week. To be safe, I am saying I am going to visit my father- however he won't be home. He'll be in a hospital out of town for testing, which he wrote me about, but I kept to myself. From what I know, he's doing well, though. Anyway, I won't leave until the sixth... but if you want to see me, will you meet me in the rue Plumet on the sixth? I understand if you don't want to... I don't want to put you through any more pain than it's worth._

_I love you, and think of you every minute-_

_~Cosette_

She'd been married three weeks now, and Christmas had just gone by. Her letter to Marius had been truthful, for the most part. Her husband was stern, but she gave him no reason to be angry with her, and so he was very workable. Their marriage was thus: they'd dine together, and about one a week or so, he'd invade her personal space (for that was how Cosette saw the experience- Marcel seemed to find enjoyment enough). However, he did not sleep in her bed every night.

She realized this the third night he'd stayed away. His coat was hanging on a railing, and she picked it up, noticing powder on the lapels. She sniffed it, and noticed it held the aroma of a woman's perfume- not hers. This peeved her to no end- more than peeved, it made her jealous. Not that he would see another woman, no. She could care less. But she was horrified with the injustice of it all. That he was perfectly allowed to see who knows how many other women whenever he wanted, but she was denied the man she loved. It was sickening.

She knew that if he found out about Marius, she would be punished. Beaten, possibly, but definitely turned out. She'd heard that some wives of important men kept lovers, but Marcel would have none of it.

"A woman is devoted to her husband and her husband alone," he said once. She found this ridiculous- he knew that neither cared for each other. He cared nothing about what she did all day. Why would he care about this?

A few days after she sent her letter, she received a reply in the secret post office box.

_My beloved,_

_Until January sixth. I shall be there._

_~Marius_

She smiled at his curt reply, a little disappointed, but excited nonetheless. It was only a few days more.

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**I'm so glad you guys are liking this... There'll be more updates soon, I promise. Reviews again, please! I loved hearing so much from the last two chapters. Don't worry, more will happen soon... but the logistics had to be established first. Thoughts?**


	4. Papa

**Guys, this is a very long chapter. However, I think everything in it is necessarily, and it would have happened in the next chapter if it wasn't in this one. I hope you like it! More happens this time round...**

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Cosette anxiously packed a bag and went off in a fiacre on the sixth of January. Her heart was in her throat the whole time, wishing there was no traffic, wishing they could move faster... Finally, it stopped in front of the house. She paid the driver and hopped out, chilled in the freezing night air. Then she unlocked the house and ran through it to the french doors opening into the garden.

She ran into the overgrown place, looking about wildly. Finally her eyes landed on the dark shape, and she launched herself at him.

The tumbled to the ground, elated. Anxiously and desperately, their lips came together time after time, rolling in the grass.

"I've been cut in half," Cosette exclaimed.

"Cosette," was all he could say, and he repeated it over and over again. Finally, they lay beside each other in grass, their souls flying among the stars.

"How are you?" he asked. "Is he…?"

"He is not cruel," Cosette said. "But he's not kind either. He's not…anything. He pays me no attention, but I'd rather that because I see little of him. I know not to cross any lines though, for I know he will not tolerate that."

"Are you safe, coming here?"

"I should be perfectly safe. They don't know that my father is also away this week, and that I could not possibly be visiting him."

"I can't believe you're here again!" he exclaimed, hugging her tightly and laughing out loud.

"Come inside- I brought some food to eat," she said, getting to her feet. "Can you stay the whole five days here?"

"I have to leave for a few hours on Wednesday and do some work, but otherwise yes."

She smiled, and led him inside. It seemed that her entire future lay in these next five days- after them, blackness.

It took awhile to start the fires and get the house warm and get the food out- and they were often distracted by each other. But finally, the fires were going and they sat down to eat.

The light cast a glow on Cosette's dress, which was a dark green. Marius narrowed his eyes, trying to remember why this was strange.

"Is that new?" he asked, realizing the reason. "You always wore black before."

"Oh," she said. "Yes."

For some reason this bothered him. "Did your husband buy it for you?"

She looked away, nodding.

This was the first and last time they mentioned him on their little getaway. They spent the remainder of their time getting reacquainted. They told each other everything that had been happening in each other's absence, and yet still managed to avoid the subject of Marcel. Marius certainly did not ask about him, and Cosette tried her best not to mention him.

It was as though they had not spent any time away from each other. They were back to how they always had been with each other- easy conversations, laughing until their sides ached, sitting quietly with their heads together, a kind of understanding that neither had with anyone else... Except they also spent almost an entire day in bed with each other on Tuesday. After spending many nights with her husband, Cosette could not believe it was even the same act. It did not feel the same at all. When Marcel decided he wanted her, he essentially rolled atop her and took her, with no words exchanged. She did not know why this was not considered taking advantage of her- just because they were married, he did not need to even _ask?_ Most nights, she dug her fingernails into her legs or gripped the sheets tightly, closed her eyes and looked away, and began to count in her head. It was painful every night- not just the first time, as she'd been told. But she knew it would end eventually, for it always did. If she counted higher and higher, she knew that there was only so much more time it could go on for, and then he would roll over again with a grunt and leave her be. Her mind would be occupied for her to endure however long is lasted.

What she had with Marius bore no resemblance to that. They celebrated each other and their love, and each of them were in a way fighting each other for more. They kissed, they touched, they caressed. Her heart beat so powerfully that she felt her pulse in her arms, in her head, and all the way down to her feet. And at the end, there was a sensation that they could create together... It seemed to come from the magic of their bond. She felt herself reach a place she'd never been before and sensed she would never go again- a height of wonderful feelings, coming in a rush. Building and building until finally she felt the very essence of beauty.

She had no idea that this was purely scientific- she thought it was something special that they alone could create. In the end, it didn't matter. All she knew was she loved Marius, and that somehow they'd found a way to be together.

* * *

On their last day together, they stayed laying in bed until far after they should have dressed. This time, it wasn't to continue making love; instead it was because if they stayed in bed, they could pretend all they wanted that it was still morning and the day was not ending.

"When can I see you again?" he asked finally, when he had accepted that their time had indeed ran out.

"I believe Marcel leaves again in March," she said.

He widened his eyes, and let out a silent, cynical laugh, looking away. His eyes rolled to the ceiling, but she suspected they were seeing far past that, and looking for God. "March," he whispered, laughing again and shaking his head. How could he manage more than two months without her?

"I know," she said, but added nothing. What could she say? She couldn't offer sympathy- he already knew she hated this as much as she did. And if she'd learned anything from this situation, it was that feeling sorry for yourself didn't change anything.

When they were getting ready to leave, Marius looked at her sadly. "It's like losing you all over again," he remarked.

"But we know we can make it," she said, putting a hand on his arm. "We're strong enough."

* * *

Returning home was actually easier than she thought it would be. Her time with Marius had given her a kind of fuel. She had a secret now, and it lived inside of her, giving her strength. It burned like an inextinguishable flame, one that neither Marcel nor anyone else could put out.

But Cosette seemed to have aged many years in the past month. She hadn't lost her hope, but she had certainly lost all of her naivete. She recalled fairy tales her father used to tell her, and stories of love and princesses who were saved by princes. She remembered being told about happily ever afters, and she always assumed she would have one, without question. Every girl did, didn't she? Now, she knew better. She'd gotten little bit of a happily ever after, by meeting Marius. Well, she'd gotten the 'happily,' but not the 'ever after.'

But she could live with that. It tore her up, knowing she would have to live mostly without him. But she would rather have just a little of him than none at all; there were some days when married life pushed her down, and it was all she could do not to get hysterical. She would go somewhere private, and cry. Knowing she still had Marius' love was the only thing that could pick her up. If she was feeling horrid, writing him a letter would be the only good thing she could do. Or some weeks, recieving a letter from him would be the only good thing to happen for days. She would think of him, and how she loved him, and how he wanted her to be happy, and she could struggle onwards. But on the other hand, she also knew that married life was only so bad because she'd seen the very best of what she could have, and was handed something far worse. She was mourning a loss. Knowing Marius had made her marriage worse- she constantly compared Marcel to him.

But still, she would not have it another way.

* * *

A week after she returned, she was doing needlework in the parlor when the maid, Julie, came in.

"Madame, there is a man asking for you. Shall I send him in?"

"Yes," Cosette said, putting down her needlework, wondering who it could be. She knew scarcely anyone.

A thin, salt-and-pepper haired man came in with his hat in his hands. He bowed his head.

"Good day, Madame. You are Madame LaFontau, are you not?"

"I am," she said. "What is it you need?"

"My name is Dr. Felipe Monstreau. I am the doctor of Monsieur Jean Fauchelevent."

"Yes," Cosette said, standing up and looking worried. "How is he?"

The man looked at her sadly. "Not at all well," he reported, and Cosette's face crumpled. "He sent me to ask to bring you, so he could see you, before..." He did not finish.

Cosette nodded briskly.

"Yes. Yes. I shall be there within the hour," she said. "Go, please. Tell him to do his best, for I shall be there soon. Tell him not to give up just yet, for I am coming."

She excused herself, and ran upstairs haphazardly into her boudoir, where she gathered some things and put them into a bag. Then, she disregarded a house rule and knocked on the door of Marcel's study before six o'clock.

He ignored the knock, but she persisted until he finally instructed her to enter.

"I told you not to bother me during the day," he said. "I usually am having meetings, or doing something important-"

"Well, I have something important to say," she said briskly. He eyed her bag.

"Are you going somewhere?" he asked suspiciously.

"A doctor just arrived, telling me that my father is in very bad health. He believes that this is the end. I must go to him- please let me go," she said beseechingly.

"Weren't you just with him last week?" Marcel asked keenly, his eyes piercing.

Cosette, taken off-guard, almost answered, 'no.' Luckily, she remembered her story at the last minute. "Yes. But Marcel- he's _dying._ I must be with him, I'm all he has in the world. Please let me go," she said.

"I'd really rather you stayed here," he said, then sat back down behind his desk.

Inside, Cosette exploded with anger. There was nothing in the world, not even her husband, who was going to prevent her from seeing her father today. Not even Marius could have kept her home at this point- not that he would have tried. Not if it was this important to her.

"How _dare_ you!" she said softly. "There is a poor old man dying alone in an apartment, a man who gave me everything, the man who gave me to you, and it is his last hour!"

He rolled his eyes. "Fine. Go. But I expect you home as soon as this is over," he said. Cosette tried not to let her disgust show- 'this is over,' meaning her father's death. She thanked him profusely and meant it, and then ran out of the house.

* * *

She burst into the apartment where her father lived, and ran into his bedroom. He looked small, his face pale and sweaty, his eyes glazed over.

"Cosette," he murmured, sounding awful. "My darling!" he cried, sobbing dryly. "I prayed and prayed you would come..."

She embraced him gently, smoothing his hair from his eyes. She reached for a washcloth and soaked it in the washbasin, and then mopped his forehead. "Of course I came here," she said lovingly. "Where else would I be?"

"Are you happy, my dear?" he asked desperately, catching her off guared. Then she saw his eyes, begging and scared, and she melted inside, realizing she never could have blamed him for this. All he did was love her.

Truthfully, the answer was no, she was not happy. But he was so frightened that he'd made the wrong choice, it was obvious.

"All my life, I've wanted you to be happy. I tried to keep you happy... you must hate me."

"Hush," she said, smiling at him. "I am happy. And I could never hate you, Papa. I love you dearly. You gave me everything."

"You forgive me, then? For putting you through this?"

"I forgave you long ago," she said.

Her father actually seemed to recover a bit in her presence. She began to hope, for the longer she was there, more of a gleam would appear in his eye. She left his side to cook him something to eat- just boiled eggs on bread with water, so as not to upset his stomach. But after he ate, he seemed to regain some strength.

"Let me sleep some, Cosette," he said. She gripped his hand tightly, and looked at him with fear in her eyes. "Oh, don't you worry. I don't think I will be leaving you tonight," he said. "I shall make sure to say goodbye," he said, smiling weakly with a twinkle in his eye.

After he dozed off, she did not trust him enough to leave. She stayed by his bedside until she fell asleep slouched over in the chair. She woke frequently throughout the night, but he was still breathing.

In the morning, she made him another bland breakfast, and read to him. He told her stories about when she was younger- stories she'd heard before, but it pleased him so much to tell them that she was enchanted to hear them again. She held back her tears, for if she was the one dying, she'd hate to see people crying all the time.

But during the afternoon, he slumped over again.

"Cosette, this is why one trusts in God. Seeing you like this has blessed me... having you in my life has blessed me."

"Oh, Papa!" she cried, embracing him. "I love you so much... don't leave me, don't leave me now..."

"Do not cry, my dear-"

"Cosette!" came a voice, and then the door burst open. They both jumped to see Marcel standing in the room and looking very angry.

"I told you to come home as soon as you had seen your father-"

"No!" she cried. "Please do not yell. Give me a few more minutes-"

"You will listen to me," he said gripping her arm and trying to tug her away. She fought against him. "I told you to come home-"

"He is my papa!" Cosette cried. "And he is... he is..." She did not want to say 'dying.' She anxiously looked at her father.

"You may say it. I am dying, Monsieur. Please let me have a minute with my daughter." He said it with quiet confidence, but was overruled.

"I will thank you to let me make the decisions when it comes to my wife," he said with authority. Cosette glared at him, and he tugged her up with a bit too much force. She tripped on the edge of her dress and stumbled, crying out in surprise.

"No!" Her father cried angrily. Valjean thought Marcel had hurt her arm, and he sat up, trying to reach out to help his daughter. The sudden move was too much, and he fell backwards onto the pillows.

"Papa!" Cosette shrieked, tugging herself away from Marcel. He was standing, shocked, and staring, and did not react. She ran to her father, placing her hands on his forehead and wrists, but felt no pulse. "Papa... papa..." she cried, sobbing now. She buried her face against him, and continued calling out for him, though he would never answer again.

After only a few moments, she felt Marcel's hand around her arm again. She looked up at him, her eyes red and tearful.

"I hate you," she spat out. "I will never, _never _forgive you for that!"

He tugged her to her feet, and she glared at him. "You killed him! You took away my last moments with him. I loved him dearly, and I will _never, never _love you. I hate you! _I hate you!"_ she screamed, but was cut off when she felt his hand slap her across her cheek with all his strength.

She stumbled back, a hand to her face, thoroughly shocked. At first she did not feel the pain, but then it came, burning and resonating on her cheekbones. She cried out, closed her eyes to fight the pain.

"We're going home," he said curtly.

* * *

_My darling Marius,_

_I need you now more than ever. It tears me up inside to say that yesterday, my father died. I was lucky enough to have spent the evening and morning with him before he went. Marcel almost did not let me go, but then I demanded it. I think the way I asked made him angry, and so he showed up out of spite. He wanted to control me, and in the very last minutes of Papa's life, he burst through the door, frightening both Papa and I, and demanding to take me home. In the shuffle, Papa died. I lost control then, and I told Marcel I hated him. _

_And it's true. Before he did this, I simply tolerated him. I did not love him, not even close, but I just ignored him and he ignored me and that was that. But this was unforgivable. He's treated me venomously ever since. _

Cosette thought about adding in the slap to her face, but decided against it. She still did not know what Marius would do should he hear something like that. Subconciously, she ran her fingers over the thick, purple bruise that had formed over her cheek.

_I don't know how I can go through this any longer. Please, tell me something to lift me up. I wish you were beside me. Now, without my father, you are truly all I have in this world._

_All my love,_

_Cosette_

She finished writing the letter right when the door to her boudoir opened and Marcel walked in. She had just enough time to hide the letter before he looked at her. She wanted to remark on his lack of a knock, but was afraid it would make her look suspicious.

"About yesterday," he said. She just looked at him. "I should not have acted so harshly. I apologize."

Cosette gazed at him coldly for a while. Why should she forgive him? It was certainly not a sincere apology.

But then she remembered that if she acted spoiled again, he would only react like he had before. The bruise still hurt, and so she accepted his apology with grace.

Two days later, she received Marius' reply.

_My dear Cosette,_

_I wish I was with you as well. I wish I could take away some of the pain of your life, and some of the grief you feel for your father. Know that whenever you feel like you have no one, I am always thinking of you, always wanting you to be happy._

_Here's all that I can say: the more this horrid man tries to take away for you, remember there are certain things he can never touch. If he tries to control you, remember that no matter what, we still share something that no one can disrupt. He can prevent us from seeing each other, but he can never end the way I feel about you or the love we share. Know that it is always there, no matter what happens. And know that, if the world truly tries to push you down, you always have a safe place to go. _

_The second thing is your relationship with God. There is nothing in the world that can stop you from seeking out God, and He will always be there for you. If you feel you have no strength left, ask God for more. He will never give you more than you cannot handle. I believe in you, and know I pray for you each night. You always have a private audience in God, and can confess things to him that you cannot share with anyone else. You can let out your fears in Him, for He will always look after you. I truly believe that. Your faith and your love- those are internal things that no one in the earthly world can hurt. They live inside you._

_Doubtless you know this already, and have used these coping mechanisms before. But I truly believe that one day, we will be happy again. To be given a love like ours is a gift- to have gotten it for free straightaway would be too good to be true. We have to fight harder for it, but in the end, the reward is much greater. I am only sorry that your fight is so much more painful. _

_One day we will find a way for you to be my wife, Madame Cosette Pontmercy. Until then, trust in God. He will look after us._

_Until March. Write as soon as you can,_

_Yours always,_

_Marius_

* * *

**I've been loving your fantastic responses so far. THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU. Nothing is better than getting a review. So... responses? Love!**


	5. Bones, and the Garden Again

It took a lot of strength for Cosette to get through to March. Without her father and now knowing the evil that Marcel was capable of, she could scarcely get through each day. She would often retire during the middle of the day for a nap, for she was so exhausted. In the morning, she would have trouble getting herself out of bed, for she found nothing in her day worth waking for. She was never hungry. She cried often, and everything in her ached. Nothing interested her except that on March fourteenth, she would see Marius again.

Marcel finally went away, and she lied to the maid and said she was visiting a friend from the convent. It wasn't a good lie, she knew, but by now she cared little for keeping her secret. She was so desperate to get out of her hell that she disregarded caution and left haphazardly.

When she finally saw Marius again, everything in her seemed to restore. Both of them confessed to having truly hellish months. But during the night, before they fell asleep, Marius carefully looked at Cosette. When they had first found each other again, they stumbled together without looking much, and rushed through until they had finally considered themselves together again.

But looking at her now frightened him. Before, she had never been exactly very thin. She was by no means fat or even very rounded, but none of her bones showed except maybe a few of her ribs when she breathed in deeply. Now, as she lay on her stomach, he could see the ribs in her back and her hipbones. Her shoulders stuck out pointedly, without the smooth lines they used to have. Her arms no longer were soft, defined, and rounded; they were straight and weak looking.

"Are you eating?" he asked her seriously.

She turned over and looked at him sadly. "Are you?"

"That's beside the point," he said. It was true, he was often too depressed to eat. But he ate very little anyway, because of money for rent and things like that. "Are you eating?"

She closed her eyes. "Sometimes I just can't. It's all I can do to get through the day."

"Cosette..." he said, wrapping his arms around her when she started to cry. He didn't know exactly what to say; he wanted to give her some sort of advice or tell her something to do, but it was impossible. He was feeling exactly as she was, and was hardly coping any better. But he knew that, while he was suffering from not seeing her, she was the one under all of the pressure. She was the one who had to lie, and to live with someone she hated.

"During the day, I only think that I want to be with you... you're all I have, you're everything to me. There's nothing positive about the life I lead- no one wants me in the house, no one there loves me..."

"Cosette... if we're going to see each other so infrequently, you have to change that. You're going to make yourself sick. You must find something else, other than me, to get you through the day."

She looked up at him through her tear filled eyes. "And so you're fairing so well without me? You're just happy all the time, and then I call you to see me, and you come and that's that? When I'm not around, you don't feel depressed? You don't miss me? If you did, you'd know how hard this is-"

"Cosette, stop. You know none of those things are true. You know that every minute, I wish things were different. I wish you could be with me every day, every night... but things aren't different. And you need to find something else to live for, besides just me."

"I don't know..." she whispered. "I don't know if I can make it this long again. I snuck into Marcel's study and looked through his calendar and he's not going away until July. I can't make it until then, I just can't!"

"We'll think of something," he said, while inside he was feeling lost, frightened, and mournful. She was slipping away, and he could feel it. She was wasting away, and he could no more grab a hold on her than he could hold onto a wave on the sand. "Why don't you just go to sleep?"

She nodded sadly, and curled up next to him, pressing herself against him, and fell asleep. He saw the tendons on the backs of her knees, her protruding ribs, her hollow cheeks... something needed to change, and fast.

* * *

"Marius, I know what we can do," she exclaimed upon waking him the next day.

"What is it?" he asked, rubbing his eyes. She sat up excitedly, but then flopped back down and snuggled back in the blankets, for the early morning air was cold.

"Marcel stays away every Wednesday and Saturday, without fail-"

"Where does he go?"

Cosette shrugged. "Some woman, I'm sure... He certainly doesn't tell _me._ But they see each other then-"

"He has _you_ and he wants someone else?" Marius asked, unbelieving.

"I'd rather it that way," Cosette explained. "The more time he spends away with her, the less he spends with me. _Anyway. _He leaves after dinner Wednesdays and Saturdays, and he returns in the mornings... it's not enough time to go somewhere, and I certainly wouldn't risk spending the night away or having you in the house, but we have a garden."

The thought clicked in his brain, and it made sense. Then it dawned on him that he had truly become corrupted. Before this affair with Cosette, he would have been the first to say adultery was wrong, and that any man who slept with another man's wife deserved to go to hell. But this didn't even feel like adultery. And maybe he was going to hell- but he'd risk it, rather than give her up completely.

"It could be like old times," Cosette said happily. "I could let you in when it's dark, and you could stay with me for a few hours... do you see?"

"Yes!" he said, taking her in his arms and excitedly kissing her all over her face. She laughed and giggled- this seemed to work perfectly. They both needed to see each other more regularly, and this was truly a solution. Twice a week wasn't exactly enough, but it was certainly better than one every two months! This way, neither of them had enough time to truly get depressed without the other. Cosette could be happy again.

"Are you sure this is safe?"

"Yes, positive. The household retires early. I'll let you in around ten, like I used to. There aren't any broken bars this time for you to sneak through, but I can unlock the gate for you."

It was settled. With life working this way, maybe they could make it through.

* * *

For several weeks, Cosette and Marius saw each other this way. They sat together like they used to in the rue Plumet, together on the bench, with their knees touching and looking up at the stars. They kept up easily with each other, and now were no longer so depressed. The shorter spaces of time were truly much better.

About six weeks after they'd decided this, Cosette greeted him much more excitedly than she usually did. After she sat him down, she gave him the news.

"Remember when you told me that I had to find something else to live for? Something to make me happy, when you're not around?"

"Yes. Have you found something?" He hoped she had- knowing that there was truly nothing good in her daily life was painful.

"Well, Marius, I'm going to have a child."

His eyes widened. Inside, he felt awful- she was having her husband's child, he was truly losing her. She would be the mother of this Marcel's child along with being his wife... But on the outside, he smiled and kissed her.

"I'm actually truly happy about this," she said, unbelieving. "I really, really am. I cannot believe I'm going to be a mother! And I know it will be good for me to care for something- no, some_one!_ I've been quite selfish, always worrying about myself and how upset I am... but now I can focus on the baby, and I'll eat for him- or her- and... I just know this is a good thing. I know it is."

She couldn't stop beaming. She waited for him to ask what she thought he would ask right away- but he never brought it up. He never asked. _Best not mention it, _she thought. _He's already lost so much. Maybe it's better if he doesn't know._

* * *

Marius was happy, Cosette was happy. They continued their visits, Cosette gained some weight, she was euphoric at being a mother, she saw Marius twice a week, Marcel was ignoring her... She could manage this. So when Marcel left the house on Wednesday evening, she snuck out into the garden and let Marius inside it. He was waiting by the wall on the street, and when he was past the gate, he took her in his arms as per usual and kissed her.

"Even with the improvements, it's been to long," he murmured.

"I know," she whispered, kissing him again.

Then they sat on the bench, and started talking. She had no idea how much time had gone by, but they were both in rather elated, playful moods that evening. After some prompting, Cosette felt Marius' hands attacking her sides, tickling her, until she was positively shrieking with laughter.

"Hush!" he said seriously. But he couldn't keep a straight face very long, and let out a laugh. That caused her to shriek again, and double over, holding her stomach as she laughed. _See, life is good. Life is good, _she thought through her laughter.

Marius reached for her then and silenced her with a kiss. Her lips had only just met his when, through her closed eyelids, she perceived some light shining on her.

"Madame?" came a voice, aghast.

Cosette and Marius leaped apart, and she looked right into the source of light- Julie, their maid, was holding a candle on them both. Her eyes were huge, as though she knew exactly how bad this was.

They leapt off the bench, and Cosette ran to Julie, taking one of her hands.

"Please, please- don't tell Marcel when he gets home. He mustn't know- He'll _kill _me, or beat me-!"

"Cosette!" Marius exclaimed.

"Hush! Julie, promise me. He cannot know. When he returns-"

"He is home," Julie let out, nervous. "He's in his study, and he sent me after you. He didn't know where you were, and he was angry you weren't waiting for him-"

"Waiting?" Cosette said. "He's never home on Wednesdays. He's never home! How did you find me out here?"

"I heard a noise," Julie said. "But you must go now, or he will be angry with us both."

"Cosette-" Marius let out again.

"Go!" Cosette said, pushing him towards the gate and out onto the street.

"You must let me know what happens- if you're alright!"

"_Go!" _she commanded, and to shut him up, she kissed him one more time.

His heart was pounding- what if they were caught? He couldn't leave just yet. If she was caught, he wanted to be caught too. He wouldn't leave her in the thick of the battle and run away to safety.

* * *

Inside the house, Cosette promised Julie to keep her mouth shut. Julie was only nineteen, and obviously thought Cosette was far above her. Cosette thought differently.

"I'll talk to you afterwards, please," she said, squeezing the other girl's hands. "Just don't tell him anything."

"I promise, I won't," Julie said.

* * *

As quietly as he could, Marius crept around to the front of the house. He found lights in one window on the ground floor, and he carefully tread to the window. Inside, he saw a man sitting at a study. He had brown hair, lighter than he, Marius', and very sharp features. He was sitting and reading some papers, and had very straight posture. At last, Marius saw Marcel.

He had never hated anyone more in his life.

Then, a knock sounded on the door. Marius realized that the window was open, because the night air was fresh and warm. He took a step to the side to hide himself from being seen, but continued to look in. He wouldn't leave until he knew she was safe. As long as the maid didn't tell anything...

Cosette entered then, her hands wringing.

"At last," the man said testily. "Where, may I ask, were you?"

"In the garden," she said innocently, gesturing in the direction. "It's a beautiful night out-"

"You were alone?" he said, hitting the nail on the head.

Cosette gave him a confused look, as though she had no idea why he would even need to ask that question. Marius had to admit she was very good at this- then he realized she'd had months of practice. He knew her heart must be threatening to hop from her chest. At least, his was. He could hardly breathe, he was so scared.

"Of course I was. I was looking at the stars."

"Why weren't you in bed? It is late."

"You are usually not home on Wednesdays," she explained. "So I thought I would stay up late, too. Look at the stars- it's so clear out."

Marcel stood up, and walked over to her. She shrunk into herself, looking down at the floor and blushing.

"Always so shy," he remarked in a small voice. Marius' insides crawled, when the man ran the back of his hand gently over Cosette's cheek. "Why are you so reluctant to love me?"

Cosette gave him a steely glance, and Marius knew trouble was coming. He knew she would say something she would later regret.

"Maybe for the same reason you don't love me."

He gave a silent laugh, then sat back against his desk, still facing her.

"You're really have quite a sharp tongue, don't you?"

Cosette just continued glaring at him.

"You're quite beautiful," her murmured, and she looked away promptly. Marcel beckoned her closer, and she took small and shaky steps until she was in front of him. He put a hand on her waist, and ran it up and down. Then he pulled her closer and kissed her. Marius gripped the branch of the bush he was hidden in so tightly that it snapped. However, neither of the two inside seemed to notice. He kissed her and she pulled back, turning her face away.

"What?" he asked. "Has no one told you that you're beautiful?"

She did not answer. When he reached for her again, she flinched away from him. She looked scared as hell. Marius wanted to go in there and take her away from this man who she obviously hated, and take her somewhere far away where no one could find them...

"It's a good thing, too," Marcel said, with a thin smile. He reached and tugged her towards him again, and put a hand on her stomach. "The mother of my child should be beautiful."

Marius wanted to heave. He knew that she was carrying Marcel's child... but hearing _him_ refer to her that way just made it worse. He couldn't stop the images of them together, _that _way. Was it always like this? Did he always lay his hands on her this way, oblivious to her discomfort?

"Why won't you touch me?" Marcel asked forcefully this time, grabbing her hands and tugging her towards him. "You are my _wife._ You cannot just withhold yourself from me-"

"Stop!" she cried, when he pulled her closer. "Don't force me. Don't."

"I'm tired of trying to get a response from you. You withhold everything from me-"

"How can I withhold anything?" Cosette asked, exasperated. "You never ask for anything. You just take what you want, whenever you want it-"

"How else can I get anything from you? You aren't acting how a wife should act- you aren't honoring me properly, you aren't fulfilling your duties. So do them willingly or I will truly 'take what I want.' I've never done that before. Just wait. If you don't start-"

"Alright!" Cosette said, throwing up her hands. Then it was silent, and her eyes widened in fear, knowing what she had to do then. Marius couldn't bear to watch, but he also couldn't look away. It was like a festering wound- he kept bothering it, knowing it would only hurt more. She walked forward and kissed her husband, and he watched as his hands roved over her body. He pulled her closer, and then was tearing at her clothes.

Marius couldn't watch any more. He tore himself away from the window, and ran home. The night was nice, but it could have been freezing and sleeting and he wouldn't have known. He wished he had never looked- he rationally knew Cosette had a husband and had a life outside of him, but she never spoke of it because she knew how upset it made him. Seeing another man kiss her, grab at her, and then hurt her... he felt a horrible, evil urging inside of him. An urge to kill. To keep himself from acting rashly, he walked for hours through the city, until he was to tired he couldn't even remember his own name. Then he collapsed on his mattress, and did not dream. It was relief.

* * *

**Thanks for all your responses, but I would love even more! ANYTHING. Love anything I get. Thanks so, so much. I hope you like this (though if you, like, enjoy reading about this misery, I think you should see a therapist because you're cruel). I should have another chapter up soon- the whole story is planned out. ;)**


	6. Marius

**This chapter's a little shorter than the others have been- don't worry... more coming soon. :)**

* * *

Marcel's lips roamed her neck, and Cosette opened her eyes, looking out the open window. She saw a flash of something run by, and then footsteps. Then, she understood what had happened, and it broke her heart. Marius had wanted to make sure she was alright. Marius had seen everything. Marius was hurting.

There was nothing she could do, not until she could find time to write him a letter. In the meantime, she upheld her lie and let Marcel touch her.

* * *

She straightened her dress, and left the study without looking back. Then, she ran to find Julie.

"Please, Madame," Julie said. "I won't tell."

"But I want you to _understand,_" Cosette begged, taking the other girl's hands. "We're almost the same age. Why, I'm only a year younger than you are."

Julie's eyes widened. "Madame, I don't know how appropriate this is-"

"I came from a poor family, with my father, doubtless much like your own. He wanted me to have a good life, so he shipped me off to marry Marcel. But I'd rather have your life, working for a family, and be able to marry who I pleased."

"But Madame, you say you came from a family like mine. But you got here on your beauty and your grace- neither of which I have."

Cosette sat the other girl down. "I disagree. And I believe we are very much alike. I would not have this without this marriage- I had nothing as a girl. _Nothing,_ except my father's love. And in the end, he only loved me too much, giving me this. It wasn't what I wanted."

"Is he cruel to you?" Julie asked. "Monsieur LaFontau- oh, forgive me, that was not my place-"

"No, no it's alright," Cosette said, smiling. "I would actually love to have someone in the house to talk to. And Marcel... at first I thought he was not cruel, but the more time I spend with him, the less I can stand him. If I have to spend the rest of my life with him, I'll have to do something to end it early," Cosette said darkly. "Have you... have you ever been in love, Julie?"

The girl averted her eyes. When Cosette got a closer look, she saw that they were filled with tears.

"Julie?"

"A few years ago I met a boy. A boy I loved- but he was killed almost three years ago, in the riots on the streets..." The girl started to sob, and Cosette wrapped her arms around her. "I lost him, and I haven't been the same since..."

"Well, I'm fighting with everything I have not to lose my love," Cosette whispered.

"I'll help you," Julie said.

* * *

Cosette retired that night with an ache still in her heart. She couldn't stop thinking about Marius, about what he had seen. She knew he had watched Marcel kiss her, had seen the entire exchange. Cosette knew that if Marius was married to another woman, the jealousy would kill her. She would constantly wonder what the other woman was like, and whether or not Marius was lying when he said that he did not like her. That was why she avoided the subject of Marcel- because then Marius could pretend the other man did not exist. But now, he had seen them embrace, he had seen Marcel's face. His nightmares would be that much more consuming and realistic. It hurt Cosette to know that Marius was in pain, and she could not be there to help.

Marius knew she had a lie to keep up with. He knew she had a life outside of him- he just had not seen it. And it broke her heart as she continuously relived watching him run away from the window.

It was all her fault, for inviting him to the house. It had been a stupid and dangerous idea. How easily they could have been caught! And now, they had no chance of seeing each other in the garden again. Not after what a close call that night had been. She would have to go back to seeing him sporadically.

Marcel turned over in his sleep, and Cosette felt a wave of resentment towards him, for coming home early that night. Did his mistress break things off? Who knows. But his mere existance caused problems in her life and in Marius', and she hated him for it. Her thoughts drifted towards Julie- if _she_ were a maid in someone's house, then she could marry Marius. She could be happy.

* * *

With the help of Julie, Cosette saw Marius twice more during her pregnancy. She did not tell anyone but Julie she was leaving the house when she was away, so Julie covered her lie. Marcel did not know she went away while he was gone, and the secret was covered. He no longer suspected anything.

The first time they saw each other again was much like the other two times had been- rushed, passionate, filled with love and sensuality. The other time was different- her body had started to change noticeably. It was fascinating, and beautiful. They stayed up late talking and finally discussing something of a future. Marius had fears that having Marcel's child, though wonderful for Cosette, would cement his separation from her. She would not answer him- she would not admit to anything ending, would not admit to any changed. She was six months pregnant by then.

"We'll see what happens," she said, looking away. "It's not time to give up."

Still, her pregnancy was wonderful for her. She was happy again, which made Marius happy, and relieved. He no longer worried so for her- she was eating, she was going to make it through. But they were also sad, because they knew they would not see each other again for a long time.

"Marcel leaves again in January," Cosette informed Marius, running her hands through his thick black locks while he lay next to her, with his eyes closed. "But by then I'll be eight months pregnant, and I know I won't be allowed out of the house."

Marius gave her a sad smile. "You have someone else to care for now," he whispered. "Don't feel guilty. I can take care of myself."

She smiled weakly back, and knew that no one would ever give her as much as he did.

* * *

In late February, when this sad affair had been going on for over a year, Marius was walking down the streets, wondering whether or not this was truly worth it. He had not heard from Cosette for almost three weeks. He knew why; she was confined to the house and sending letters would be difficult. But he missed her, and the pain was too much to bear. He could not go on this way for much longer. Just waiting for her next words, her next visit, was killing him. He felt strung up by a noose for three month between visits, just waiting for his fix of Cosette. During the long stretches without her, he wanted to die. He could not take much more of this. He was jealous of her life, jealous that she had a life away from him while he had nothing. He wanted her with him all the time, and knowing she wasn't made him resentful.

He stepped into the post office, and found he had received a letter from her. All his angry thoughts evaporated just like that.

_My Darling,_

_I am positively euphoric. I did not know I could be this happy. I couldn't wait to tell you- how I wish you were here to see! To talk to me!_

_Oh, Marius, yesterday, I gave birth to my son. He's beautiful, and I hadn't even imagined how much I would love him already. He's in front of me now, laying on a blanket. He makes these fascinating little noises, and looks up at me with this needful stare- he loves me, Marius. He needs me, for I'm his mother! Oh, I am so happy. He is perfectly healthy, and right now, even all red and scrunched up, he's beautiful. I'm laying down right now, for they confined me to bed for a few days, but that's fine with me. All I want to do is spend time with him, and hold him, and get to know him. To hold a tiny human being in your arms, and know he's all yours, and that he needs you as much as you need him... it's a wonderful feeling. I already seem to know him- his little baby smell, the way he feels in my arms, his warmth and his weight when I carry him. There is nothing that could have helped me more. I would do anything for him._

_I chose his name. I made Marcel let me pick it. I chose a name that truly shows how much he means to me. He gives me so much joy. I've only felt that much joy from one other person- you. He shares your name, Marius. And he deserves it. The two of you make up my happiness and give me light. God is looking after us, I can feel it. I named him for you hoping that he will turn out as honorable, truthful, and loyal as you are. I wish you could know him- I wish he could know you. _

_I do not know when we can meet again, but I shall write again quickly. Please write soon- I want to hear from you, I've missed you very much. I love you. I know you are nervous about our future, but do not worry. I trust us. Have a little faith._

_Yours always, _

_Cosette_

He let this letter resonate with him, and it caused a glow inside of him. Trust Cosette to know exactly when he was losing faith, and exactly when he was having doubts, and completely restore what he needed. She had magic. She _would _do something like this to completely convince him of her love for him, when he was starting to doubt her. It was so... Cosette to know when he was hurting most, and restore his convictions, and make him fall in love with her all over again.

He went home as fast as he could and wrote back anxiously. She was right; it wasn't time to give up just yet.

* * *

**Hope you guys still love this! PLEASE tell me what you think. I love reading what you think is going to happen... hahaha. And how much you hate Marcel. I'm tempted to have Marius murder him... but it would be kind of out of character. Maybe I should go medieval and have Cosette strangle him with her hair? Hahaha no... like I said. It's all planned out. :)**


	7. Letters and Thoughts

_Dearest Cosette,_

_I know you are probably very busy, and that was why I haven't heard from you yet. Well, it is only three days after I last wrote, so I can't expect a reply yet anyway. I hope you are well. I hope you are still as happy as you sounded in your last letter._

_Thank you again, for what you did. You filled me up inside, lifted me up, like you always manage to do. My faith is back. Right now I'm spending most of my time engrossed in work- I've been very busy as well. I hope you are well... I wrote that already. I want to see you soon. There. Please write._

_Love,_

_Marius_

He set down his pen and looked at the letter, wondering whether sending another one would be too much. He did not want to seem as though he was desperate- though he was. He had not seen her since November, and it was nearly March. He had not been lying when he said he was busy with work; he was. But he busied himself on purpose. While Cosette was doubtlessly busy with her child, he threw himself into working so he did not have to think. When he had first fallen in love with Cosette almost three years ago, he had stopped working. He would not concentrate and would put his pen down so he could go think. But now, he did not want to think. He wanted to get his thoughts as far away from her as he could, because then he would not hurt anymore. So he worked tirelessly. They only good thing to come from that is that he now had some more money.

* * *

_Dear Marius,_

_I am sorry I could not write sooner. You were right- I am very busy, and very tired. I'm with Marius every minute- oh! That's funny. Little Marius. Though I wish I were with you every minute, too. Anyway, I'm with him all day, and still have all the other household duties... I'm exhausted._

_I'm glad you are busy, and working. That's wonderful. I hope you have occupied your mind somehow. You're brilliant- I hope you're finally using it. The world needs your brain._

_I have good news! On April 16th, Marcel leaves again for four days. Meet me in the rue plumet at ten o'clock in the evening? You know how it works. _

_Love always,_

_Cosette_

She yawned and sealed the letter carefully, hiding it in the false bottom of the drawer in her vanity before she could put it to post. Her son's little cries interrupted the quiet of her bodoir, and she lifted him from the bassinet and calmed him. She slept alone now- it had only taken a week for Marcel to realize he could not take sleeping with a baby in the room. And Cosette had finally stood her ground on something- she refused to have a wet nurse care for her son. She'd read that they were often unhealthy for children, and the babies got sick very easily. Once she presented this issue to Marcel, he gave in rather easily. After all, he wanted a healthy son as well. Moreover, he wanted his wife to shut her mouth and stop complaining, and so she got what she wanted.

But that meant Cosette needed to be near her little Marius every minute- hence the seperate bedrooms. But to Cosette, this was fine.

* * *

_My beloved-_

_April 16th it is. It's been too long. I cannot wait to see you again. Tell me what you have been doing- send a long letter, please. I need something to read. _

_I miss you so much. This wait has been especially long. Sometimes I wake up in the night and I think you are there, right next to me. I reach for you, and I'm alone. I want to hold you beside me every minute, I want to make love to you in a way that is not rushed, like it is every time we see each other. When I see you, I know I willl be happy again, and until then, I won't be. But I also know that once you're gone again, I'll be right back where I was._

_Yours,_

_Marius_

Marius was having a rough set of days. They came more frequently now, these types of days. He now spent a large amount of time locked in his tiny apartment, rereading the old letters Cosette had send him. He kept them in a box that his boots had came in, but it was almost full now. He realized that he would have to get a new box soon. But he lay on his bed, going over the words she'd written him ever since that fateful December. Her first letter after she married Marcel, begging him to come take her away from this misery. Her letters for weeks after that were desperate and sad, always asking for help that he often couldn't give. Come to think of it, they had been like that for years. It was only now, with her child, that she was happy again. And that was a good thing- she hadn't sounded this healthy in over a year.

He couldn't help but feel somewhat jealous of the young child, though. He knew it was silly. This child got to have all of her love, and see her every minute of every day. Marius thought jealously of the baby for a few hours, grumbling and whining inside his mind about how unfair the whole process was... But that was ridiculous. Of course she loved her son. Of course she was with him constantly- he would die without her. And it was selfish and cruel of him to be jealous. After all, Cosette admitted it herself that she wanted him with her all the time, too. And she still loved him- otherwise she would not name her child for him.

* * *

A few weeks after she'd given birth and entirely too soon, Marcel had begun to expect her to act like his wife again. She was not ready for it- she did not feel well, she was still nausceus sometimes, breastfeeding was somewhat unpleasant, and she was so exhausted. But nonetheless, she was still expected to fufill these duties.

She would try to pretend that Marcel was Marius. If it was dark and her eyes were closed, she tried to convince herself that she could believe the man touching her was Marius. But it was just not true- there was so many other senses that could not be convinced. Marcel smelled different- he had tobacco lingering on him, and just did not smell the same. Marius had a smell that evoked something in Cosette that was almost wild- only he could do that. He also felt different. Marcel touched her like he was taking inventory, making sure all these parts of her were still there. Marius touched her with a reverence. Even after the countless times they'd made love, he touched her like she was some special blessing that he had to be careful with. Her body did not respond the same way. And even his breathing sounded different- she could not convince herself that they were the same man.

* * *

_My darling Marius,_

_I miss you so, and I am sorry you miss me. I shall let you know everything that is particularily interesting, which might be very little. Oh well, here we go._

_I spend the mornings alone with little Marius, ma petite, and I just talk to him. He's quite a good listener- I've told him a lot about you, actually. Though it saddens me to know I will have to stop that when he begins to learn to talk. But for now, he knows some wonderful stories about you- I'm trying to train him to take after you instead of Marcel. Though Marcel pays him very little attention, so I needn't worry. _

_Once Marcel is busy working, I can talk with Julie. I sometimes help her with her chores, for there is often nothing better for me to do. We go to the market sometimes, and buy food for the house. When I return home, I do some needlework. I pray, like I know you do, and I pray for you to be happy. I pray for us to have a future together. Remember a year ago when you told me to pray for us to marry someday? I've prayed for that every day. Have you?_

_I used to read and do other little bits of work around the house, but now I try to spend all my time with my son. He makes me happy, and gives me all I need to get through the day, and more. Besides, if I am with him, Marcel does not nag on me so much about not spending time with him. Apparently it's alright to spend time with your son, but not to have a minute to yourself. But anyway, I adore my little one so. Sometimes in the middle of the night, I thought about how, when I first fell in love with you, I simply knew that God would have us together forever. Right now, I cannot ever see myself without my little Marius in my arms- though I know soon enough, he will not be so little. But then fear clutches at my heart, and everything goes cold. I get so scared sometimes that he will leave me, that something will happen. Anything can happen, especially when he is so small like this. I worry that he will leave me, too. If I lost him, I know there would be nothing left for me. _

_Oh, I'm sorry for sounding so negative. I must sound terribly unhappy, but really, I'm not. Every minute I wish for you, and every minute I want you beside me. Again I express how I wish you could know my son. I want you to be happy, and I hope you are finding a drive to keep you going, for I know that soon something will change. I can feel that we are at a stand-still right now, Marius- and those never last long. I know that we will take a turn sometime soon, and I can just sense it will be for the better. Sooner or later we will finally be together forever._

_Write back soon. Otherwise, only three more weeks, and then we can hold each other again-_

_Cosette_

* * *

Weeks passed like this- the two longed for each other, Marius grew more and more depressed. He knew something had to change, but had no idea how to change it. He put off that feeling, and buried it underneath all his longings to see Cosette. He told himself that he was just so worried because he had never gone so long without her before. It would change soon. He would see her soon.

And on April 16th, he did.


	8. Growing Up, and Frustration

Cosette hurried through the house on the rue Plumet much like she had the very first time she met Marius. When she reached the garden, her eyes eagerly sought out the dark shape in the garden.

"Marius!" she called, then began running towards him.

He enveloped her in his arms, kissing her over and over again, lifting her off of her feet, and spinning her around. "Don't _ever _go so long without calling for me again!" he cried, not able to stop kissing her until finally, he accepted that she was there in his arms.

"I adore you," she whispered, and rested her head against him.

"Do you remember what today is?" he asked eagerly. "April 16th?"

She looked at him with confusion for a moment, and then her mouth broke into a wide smile. "Oh, my goodness! I had forgotten!"

"It's been two years since I first came in here," he marveled. "Right through the broken gate, just like I did then."

She shook her head in amazement. "When you talked incessantly about how you must be annoying me, and then I fainted?"

"Yes!" he said, the memory still so fresh. But once their laughter had died, he let out a sigh and the joy left his eyes.

"I only thought..."

"What did you think?" she asked.

"I thought we'd be married by now."

* * *

That visit, like all the others, went by too fast. He bided his time until their next meeting in July, ignoring the horrid pangs of fatigue that were reigning on his body. He could not go through this for much longer, not like this. He just didn't have the energy for it anymore.

When her father died over a year ago, it had taken Marius some time to realize that that did not change anything. He had thought that maybe, because her father had pushed her into this contract, that once he died, she would find a way out of it. He never told her this, of course. Time proved him wrong; she never even suggested getting out of the marriage. And why should she? Once she divorced this man, she would be ruined. He, Marius, would still marry her, but she would be ruined in society. Anyway, when her father died, Marius was still too young to marry her. He was twenty-two at the time- hell, he was still too young to marry her. He could not enter into a contract until he was twenty-five. And, when he had been meeting her in his garden, there had been no possibility in his mind of living with her, unmarried. But now, sin was no stranger to him. If Cosette came to him now and promised to leave Marcel, he would take her in until they were both enough to marry.

Unfortunately, this did not happen. He just went on accepting her letters, writing her back, and losing more and more of his motivation to go on living. He knew that now, he was no longer all the kept Cosette happy. His presence in her life was no longer as necessary as it had once been. He did not consider suicide, as he once would have, but he was beginning to desire some kind of end to this madness. It was killing him, and he wanted to fight for his life.

All the time, he needed Cosette. He saw many things in between his visits with her that he would enjoy- jobs he should take, shows to see, books to read, friends to meet- but he didn't, for he didn't have the heart for it. Instead, he would go home and sulk over his loss and reread her letters. He longed for his will to live to return to him.

His visits with her passed in July, and again in September and November, and then started their second year of their affair. Months passed, and he buried all of his feelings until then. They happened the same way. They met in the garden, and spent days anxiously in bed making up for lost time. They would stay up late in the nights talking, and spend the days sleeping and making love without ceasing. Then, four days later after their marathon of love, they would leave, and he would feel emptier than ever. He would have so much of her when she was their, that the wound only hurt more when she left again.

He was dying. This was going to kill him, if it didn't change. But he just hadn't the heart to change anything. He just trudged on, waiting for his three or four days with Cosette. Then he would go back to being half human, barely sleeping or eating, just waiting. And he could not take it much longer.

He was only happy with her, and when he _was _with her, he could not ever remember being unhappy. That was why nothing changed. Whenever he was with her and had the opportunity to do something about the situation, he would forget they ever had a problem.

* * *

"So remember in September when I told you about that man I saw on the street, who said he was Napolean's brother?" Marius asked Cosette in November of 1835, marking three years of them sleeping together to get away from Marcel. They were seated together on an armchair, and he was playing with her hair which was falling lose down her back.

"Yes!" she said, her eyes lighting up. "That was so funny."

"Well, I saw him again," he began, but was interrupted by a knock on the front door downstairs. "Wait for me," he said, moving her from her position on his lap and standing up. "I'll go answer that."

"Wait," she said, tossing him his cravat, which he tied over his collar.

"Finish getting dressed," he mentioned warily. "Just to be careful."

She eyed her half-composed ensemble, and found her gown on the floor.

Downstairs, Marius opened the door to find a young woman in modest clothing who looked vaguely familiar.

"Mosieur Pontmercy, you must be?" the girl asked with wide brown eyes.

"Yes," he said.

"Is Madame LaFontau here?"

He flinched at the sound of her formal name- he'd actually never heard her called that before, surprisingly enough.

"Yes," he said nervously- who was it who would now them both? "What do you need? Who are you?"

"I'm Julie, her maid. I came here to warn her- both of you, actually."

Marius called for Cosette, who appeared at the foot of the stairs. When she laid eyes on Julie, she almost fainted.

"Oh, no, oh no oh no!" Cosette exclaimed, stamping her foot.

"What is it?" Marius asked, frightened.

"It's Sunday, isn't it?" Cosette said. They both nodded. "I'm late!"

"You said we had until _Monday_," Marius reminded her, thoroughly annoyed by now that their time had been interrupted.

"Well, I had it wrong- oh, I remember now. I got the dates wrong, I'm so stupid, we're finished, this is all my fault!" she sobbed dryly, and spun around, looking for her belongings.

"Don't worry yet, Madame," Julie said. "I came her because you weren't home yet. But Monsieur is not returning until evening. I got worried when the clock struck four and you had not yet returned-"

"He's not home?" Cosette asked.

"Not yet. But we must return quickly-"

"Oh, Julie, you saved my life!" Cosette exclaimed, kissing the girl on the cheek. "Thank you so much. I must go pack- Marius, come with me. Julie, I'll be there in a minute. Oh thank you!"

Marius could not believe his ears. Cosette was leaving, just like that. He felt so cheated by this- he counted on having one more day with her, and now it was gone. He'd lost a day with her, a day he'd looked forward to and counted on, a day he deserved! He would barely be able to say goodbye, and she might return home to an angry husband. They had narrowly missed being discovered.

"Cosette, be careful," he warned, after she'd quickly packed her things. He pulled her to her feet and picked up her suitcase, kissing her deeply before letting her downstairs again. "Don't let yourself be discovered. I know you trust Julie, but you mustn't tell anyone else. It's too much of a risk-"

"I know," she said. "I've been doing this long enough, I know what to do to stay undiscovered."

"I don't want something to happen," he said, thinking of the danger of what would happen should they be found. She brushed the comment off.

"Oh, it won't."

"Cosette-" Marius warned.

"I have to go now," she said briskly, kissing him again. "Write soon, won't you?"

"Yes," he promised, and once again, she was gone. He didn't even have the energy to feel rejected.

* * *

When Cosette ran into her home, she carefully redid her hair and examined herself in the mirror. She looked perfectly normal. Marcel returned home an hour later, and found Cosette waiting for him. When she recieved nothing but a calm "hello," she breathed a sigh of relief that seemed to come from her very toes.

She was safe. Quickly, she penned a letter to Marius informing him of this. Then, she went upstairs to the nursery, where her son was playing with his nurse.

"Hello, ma petite!" she exclaimed. Her little Marius toddled up towards her- he was walking now, and talking a bit, too. He was very near two, and was a very, very smart boy.

"Maman!" he exclaimed.

"What have you been doing?" she asked clearly when she picked him up and planted a kiss on his rosy cheek.

"Aminals," he said, pointing to a pile of wooden animals that he liked to play with. "Play with me?"

"Ooh," she said. She sat down and set Marius down next to her, and then began to play with him. Thoughts of the crisis of the morning had already flown her mind.

* * *

For Marius Pontmercy, however, they were still plaguing him. Marius had no idea what was going on- he went home, but was preoccupied thinking of Cosette. What if they were caught? She would be beaten.

He was tired of this pain- sitting at home, worrying about whether or not they would be caught and knowing Cosette was in some sort of trap. He was sick of only having a tiny percent of her, and wanting the whole thing. He was sick of putting her in danger, especially now that, with her son, she had something to lose. He was terribly done with waking up in the night and needing her so acutely that it seemed like his heart was in physical pain. He hated knowing that, while he wanted her beside him, she was sleeping beside another man. He knew that if they were caught, she would be the one to suffer. And he did not want that to happen to her.

He was getting very little out of their affair- he wasn't able to love her. He was only able to want her whenever she was not with him. He was tired of having only three days of her, just laying in bed together. They had turned into nothing but adulterers. That wasn't what he wanted, wasn't what Cosette wanted. Now, he wanted all of Cosette or none of Cosette. Those were the only ways he could have her safely, without discovery, and still be able to love her.

All of her was impossible to have.

It broke his heart to consider the alternative.

* * *

**Don't know whether or not you guys will like that last line... or the next chapter. :/**

**Thoughts? THANKS! Plenty more coming soon! :)**


	9. Broken Hearts

**Ok everyone, I know this isn't what you exactly want to read... but... here's chapter nine.**

* * *

Marius assumed that he would hear little from Cosette for a long time, and that he would definitely not receive an invitation to visit her for months- if ever again. Their close call was still on his mind, and it frightened him. He banked on not having to see her, and therefore not having to make a decision.

That was why he was so surprised when in mid-December and barely two weeks after their initial scare, he received a letter from her.

_My beloved,_

_I hope you are doing well. Again, I say it, though I feel as if after three years, the words have lost their meaning: I miss you. I love you. _

_But I mean them both. I do._

_Anyway, I wanted to know what you are doing the second week of February- on the 12th? Because Marcel is in England! Yes, England! He'll be gone two and a half weeks, which is more time than we'll ever have had together._

_Please write soon!_

_Always,_

_Cosette_

He couldn't believe what he was reading- he was almost angry that she would be willing to take a risk again this soon. On the other hand, he was jumping inside with joy- over two weeks together! To him, it seemed like a lifetime that they could spend together. Still- it was an awful risk, wasn't it, after how close they'd come last time?

_Dear Cosette,_

_Are you sure you can risk it? After last time... We should take some extra precautions._

_Marius_

Part of him knew that he couldn't do this again. It seemed like setting himself up for the ultimate pain. But he went through with the motions, because it was all he knew how to do. He could not do this anymore- it was too difficult. But he also did not know how to end it. The thought of ending it was impossible for him- it would kill him. But so would staying in the relationship, and getting nothing out of it but a broken heart.

* * *

One day in early February, when Marius was still contemplating what to do with his problem, he went out to a park in the same quarter as Cosette lived. It was uncharacteristically warm for winter, and he wanted to take advantage of the day. Apparently, so did many other people. There was lots of women and nurses with children, and other students walking about. Lovers walked together, hand in hand, enjoying the day, and a few elderly people sat in the sunshine. A man with a small dog on a leash walked past him.

Since one of Marius' favorite activities was people watching, he sat on a bench and enjoyed the view of all the different types of people in the park. His eyes swept through the bunches of frolicking, laughing people, until his heart leaped.

About twenty meters away on a bench on the other side of the path, was a woman he would never, never mistake. He could recognize her in any hat, dress, or ensemble she would choose to wear. He'd spent four years with her, and five years in love with her. Cosette was sitting across the way. Since she'd stopped coming to the Luxembourg with her father when she was still a girl, he'd never seen her outside of the rue plumet except that month or so they spent in the garden at her house.

She was with another woman who was dressed far more modestly- probably a nurse. A little boy was running all around them, playing in the grass. He was dressed ornately, as upper-class children often were. Marius felt bad for the child- he'd been dressed like that as a young boy, and remembered often being hot and restricted. He couldn't see much of the boy, though, but he knew who he was. It was little Marius. He wore a tiny little hat which he kept trying to remove, and Cosette would catch him and force it back onto his head.

Marius was certain the little group would not see him from where they were, but to be careful he stood behind a tree. He continued to watch, though- he couldn't stop looking.

Cosette chased her child playfully, who giggled and kept 'getting away.' He tried to run after a bird, but of course did not catch it. Cosette's face, though, interested Marius far more than the little boy. She was so happy. Her smile was huge and her eyes were alight as she laughed. It was obvious she loved her son like nothing else in the world. He was the one who put this smile on her face.

Marius sneaked away before he could be seen. When he turned away, he felt his last hope die, for now he knew what he had to do.

* * *

All day on February 12th, he tried to talk himself out of it. He did not think he could do it. It was easily the dumbest thing he could do.

So when he saw Cosette waiting for him in the garden with a huge smile on her face, he pushed those thoughts away. He forgot what he had to do, and just enjoyed his time with her.

He held her tighter than he ever had before, kissed her more deeply. He touched her, kissed her _everywhere, _so that, in the future, he would never wonder whether or not he did. He committed every word she said, every sigh to memory. He was glad they were in the dark, so she could not see the tears that were falling from his eyes. Cosette fell asleep with her head resting on his chest and her arm wrapped around him. He felt that electric connection between their skin that he'd felt ever since the first time they'd touched in the rue Plumet almost four years ago.

He held her tight as she slept, and his thoughts ran overdrive, trying to convince himself not to do it. She was the best thing in his life, the best thing that would ever to happen to him, and doubtless the only woman he would ever love. How could he be daft enough to let her go?

But as the night grew longer and longer, he knew he would do it. The way she was sleeping against him now was just heartbreaking. They should be married, and they weren't. He couldn't keep pretending they had a life together when they really didn't- they just had weekends every few months. It was not enough for him, and he was tired of pretending it was.

* * *

In the morning when Cosette awoke, she naturally rolled over and reached out to wrap her arms around Marius. But she felt empty space in bed next to her. She opened her eyes, and the sight confirmed that she was, indeed, alone. Cosette sat up, and found him sitting fully dressed on the edge of the bed, looking at her with serious and attentive eyes. For the first time in all of their time together, Cosette felt a wave of self-consciousness. The way he was dressed, and formally sitting there made her nudity slightly embarrassing. She drew the sheet up to cover herself.

"Why are you all the way over there?" she asked playfully, already sensing something was wrong and wanting to cheer him up.

"Cosette, I-" He didn't know how to begin. He didn't want to do it too quickly, for her owed her more than that. He owed her everything, it seemed. "I didn't sleep last night. I haven't slept for many nights, because I've been thinking."

"About what?" she asked warily.

He swallowed. "Us." He closed his eyes. "I don't think- I mean, I _know _we shouldn't see each other any more."

Her giant blue eyes were even huger when he opened his own dark brown ones. She was giving him a heartbreaking, sad stare that he couldn't hold- he looked away promptly.

"Cosette, I'm-"

"_What?"_ she asked, reaching for her nightgown and hurriedly putting it on. She felt foolish now. "Why, _why_ do you want to do this?"

"I don't _want_ to-"

"Then why would you go through with it?" she asked desperately. She got up on her knees and took his face in her hands, making him meet her stare. "I love you. You _know_ I do! I love you so, so much," she kissed his face as she said it as though to convince him. She held him tightly against her, so that he could not get away. "Why would you do this? Do you love someone else?"

He gave a small, sad smile. "Of course not. Cosette- I don't think I could, even if I tried. Or wanted to. I don't want to love anyone but you, but even if I did... Now that I met you, any other woman is second-rate."

She stared at him as tears welled into her eyes, but she did not blink or look away. "You say _that_. But don't you still love me? You said you did, last night- were you just making it up, so you could go to bed with me?" She burst this out, trying to think of the worst thing she could say. But once they were out of her mouth she began to fear that they were true.

"No!" he defended. "I said it because I meant it. I'll say it again: I love you Cosette and I always will. But-"

"But?" she asked.

"I shouldn't come to see you anymore."

She let her head drop onto his shoulder and she began to cry.

"Oh, God," he whispered, taking her in his arms and knowing it would only hurt them both more. But he couldn't resist comforting her when he saw her hurting. Old habits die hard. He pulled her towards him and scooted across the bed so that his back was to the headboard. Then he pulled her into his lap, and wrapped his arms around her as she cried into his shoulder. He couldn't even count the number of times they had been in this position before- countless nights when things had been too hard for both of them, and tears had overtaken them.

"Please," she sobbed. "If you really want to do this, explain why."

He waited until she met his eyes, and so when she looked up at him, he began. "Cosette, I know you have an incredibly hard time at home, with your husband. But I have an incredibly hard time without you, too. I sit and wait for your letters and wait to be called for a visit, but until then I don't have the energy for anything. I'm depressed. I'm useless, and I can't think of anything but you. Then, when I finally get to see you, we're both too desperate to really spend any time together. We spend three or four days in bed trying to make up for lost time."

"And you think_ never _seeing me will help?" she begged. "I think you're making the wrong decision!"

"No," he said, even though it hurt, "I'm not. Now maybe we can move on and be healthy again. Think about it- remember the way we loved each other, back in the rue plumet? Like we were untouchable? Like we had magic? I understand we've grown up, but have you felt that way recently, even a little bit?"

She didn't answer.

"Cosette- I think our effort to stay together has reduced us into something far less than what we could have been. I never see you anymore, and the seldom times I do, we don't act like ourselves. I love you so much, but when I see you, I act like I want nothing more than to sleep with you. That's not what our relationship was about."

"But what about our life?" she asked. "How can we have a life together if you want to leave me?"

"What life?" he laughed cynically. "I haven't had a life with you since we were meeting in the rue plumet. Ever since then, I've been living half a life, just waiting. And I can't do it anymore."

"So, this is just about what _you_ want? Don't I get a say in this?" she argued.

"I want to explain something to you," he said carefully. He didn't want to say this, because he knew that this piece of information would end it forever- until he put this out on the table, he could take his words back and they could pretend like this never happened. But he took a deep breath and told her, for he knew he had to be honest with her. "Before you had your son, if we were caught, your husband would have turned you out of the house, most likely. You could have lived with me- granted, I have no money or room, and it would have been against the church, but we would have been together. And what about this isn't against the church anyway?" he asked, gesturing to the way they were sitting, on a bed they had sinned in countless times.

"I know," she answered. "Go on."

"Now, if we were caught, the same thing would happen. Only you would lose your son."

She wrinkled her brow and sat up straighter. "What are you saying?"

"In the event of the end of your marriage with Marcel, he would keep your son," Marius told her. He'd been worrying over this piece of information ever since she gave birth to the little boy two years ago.

"No!" she gasped. "That can't be! Marcel doesn't even _like_ Marius. I spend all my time with him, almost every day, playing with him. I _adore _him, and he adores me. He cannot live with that man! He pays him no attention! He won't be loved! _I'm his mother. _That's just not fair!" she argued. "I give him _everything,_ and he can't be without me. It's _not fair!"_

"I didn't say it was," Marius told her, knowing that this, more than anything, had hurt Cosette. She couldn't even fathom the idea of losing her son. "But it is true. He would have full custody of your Marius."

Cosette looked away. This was the first time his words had affected her. Marius felt foolish, convincing Cosette of something that would break them both- yet he saw no other way to do it. He couldn't just walk out and break her heart that way- and he needed to say goodbye.

"I'm not going to ask you to choose between us," he said. Their eyes met, and in the sadness of their gaze, they both knew who she would choose. Marius knew this already, and that was why he knew he could no longer put her through this. It would be selfish to make her risk something she wasn't even aware of, while he knew the whole time she might lose her son.

Marius' eyes filled with tears, so he closed them and kissed the top of her head, smelling the scent of her hair and perfume for what might be the last time.

He picked her up from off his lap and moved her over.

"I don't want to do this," she said. "Maybe..."

He shook his head. "We're doing what's right."

"It feels so wrong. I'm meant to be with you- I know it," she begged.

"Then keep praying. I will. I won't give up- but I won't live sinfully any longer," he told her. "But... if something _does_ happen... If you ever need a place to go, I'm still here. I'll never stop loving you, you know. So if you need help, come to me, any time. You and your son are always welcome with me," he said, putting a hand on her cheek and wiping away one of her tears.

"Goodbye, Marius," she whispered. "I'll never, never stop loving you. I promise."

"Goodbye, Cosette," he said simply, for he couldn't say anything more. If he tried to promise her anything, he knew his decision would not hold.

He turned to leave, but before he had reached the door he turned back, ran back over to her, and pulled her into his arms for one last kiss. Once they broke apart, however, he turned around again so she could not see the tears falling from his eyes. He left the bedroom, went downstairs, and out of the house. He looked about the garden that was filled with so many happy memories, and he kicked the garden wall in anguish.

Silent sobs overtook his body, and he leaned against the stones for support as he mournfully cried. He knew that he had just made the worst decision of his life, ending what he and Cosette had. He also knew it had been the right decision.

Meanwhile Cosette, upstairs, lay on the bed crying her own, not silent tears. It was over. It was really, really over.

* * *

**Sorry everyone! Thoughts?**


	10. Cosette

Cosette returned home a few hours later, still not able to believe that it had truly happened. She went straight upstairs into the nursery and called for her son.

"Maman!" he exclaimed with surprise like he usually did. He noted her tears. "Why maman sad?" he inquired. She smiled at him- she'd been working on questions with him, and he was learning beautifully.

She didn't answer him, just swept him into her arms and held him tightly to her, glad he was still small enough for her to lift, and glad she still had a few more years of this. Him needing her desperately, not able to really do anything without help of his mère.

He struggled away from her grip rather quickly, though; at two, he was ready to assert his independence over _anything._ That meant he was always on the verge of a tantrum, and was rather against being held. She let him go easily, and watched him run off, and resume playing with his toys.

Now, he was all she had left. She had never suspected he would break things off- he seemed destined to forever be a part of her life. He'd touched her life, taught of her happiness and love, and she'd innocently assumed would always be there. But she would never see him again.

* * *

If it weren't for her son, Cosette would have ceased eating and remained in her bed all day. But she had a little boy to care for, so each day she rose responsibly and ate her meals. She hid her tears from the boy as well, because she knew she had to appear strong for him. She was meerly going through the motions of being a happy human being, however. Inside, she felt broken beyond repair. She had no idea how she could ever recover from a wound this large and all-consuming. The only person to put a smile on her face was her son, Marius. But he, more than anyone else, reminded her of the love she'd lost.

But after a few months of going through the motions, she began to forget that she was faking them and began to do them without thinking. She woke and rose out of bed right away, without even thinking of her sadness. Her appetite returned, as did her desire to go out into the garden once summer came about. She was healing, and even she couldn't believe it.

Some days, though, the grief still overwhelmed her, even months and months later. One November day, nearly nine months since he'd ended things, Cosette sat alone in her boudoir. She was still in her nightgown and it was nearing mid afternoon. She sat on the floor, rereading all of the letters he'd sent. She could scarcely see the text on the pages anymore, for the tears in her eyes. She traced her fingers over the words in the well-known hand, the reassuring words that promised to love her always.

Where had his promises gone?

* * *

For some time after Marius had broken things off, Cosette had been incredibly spiteful. She tried as hard as she could to love Marcel- she worked at it every day. He noticed her efforts and believed that she _did_ love him, and they actually helped her. He was gentler to her, and much, much kinder. She realized that he had probably only acted so harshly out of insecurity, knowing that Cosette hated him. Of course, that did not forgive certain things he'd done- especially the casual way he took advantage of her body for many years- but it put things into perspective.

However, much as she tried, she could not love him. There were too many unpleasant memories, for one. But more than that, he was just not the right person for her. Even at his best, he evoked no passion from Cosette. And even long after she knew Marius was gone, she still compared the two. Once she'd had time with her soul mate, she knew a regular man would not suffice.

So instead of taking time with Marcel, Cosette devoted all of her time with her Marius. She was beginning to feel that he was a genius. He was learning to talk, and his vocabulary was expanding faster than she could teach him. In January and right before he turned three, he knew his whole alphabet and the sounds the letters made. He could not write yet, for his manuscript was ghastly (obviously), but he could recognize many words. In just a month later, when he was three, he could read a short children's book. The thought was astonishing to Cosette- a three-year-old, reading!

It might have had something to do with the amount of time Cosette spent with him. Ever since he'd been born, she'd been at his side teaching him. He'd learned to talk rather young, and everything he'd done was accelerated. She never ceased to teach him new things and he was always eager to learn. She read him books every night before sleeping, and talked endlessly to him. His language was very good because of all the words he'd been exposed to. He played with his toys and looked at pictures of things, and Cosette explained little things about. He knew animal names, colors, and differences between trees, flowers, and bushes. She often wondered about children whose parents essentially ignored them- obviously they would not be so smart as her child. But they would also not be so happy. She knew she would not have flourished without her father's love. Her child could not be this happy without her love.

Still, despite her time spent with little Marius LaFontau, she did not give up on her future with Marius Pontmercy. She remembered once when he'd said he'd been sure they would marry eventually, and so she prayed for that every day. She saw no way for it to happen, but still she prayed, for she knew nothing else to do. And if things got too difficult, she found herself wishing for Marius. He had always been the one who had good words to say to comfort her. He always knew what to say. So she would write him a letter, telling him what was wrong, telling him she missed him and she loved him... but she ever mailed it.

Why should she, anyway? A year went by since they'd ended things, and they hadn't spoken in a year. He could have moved and never would receive her letters anyway.

The initial wound had healed, but it now was a bruise- it hurt whenever she thought about it. It hurt so badly that she sometimes thought it wasn't even real. Yes, she could say she felt better than she did right after it happened, but it still seemed impossible. She still couldn't believe it was over. She knew that she'd never love a man again. Once she'd met Marius, that possibility was forever gone.

There was a tiny part of her that was angry with him. After the pain he'd caused, she wanted to cause pain on his part. A tiny part of her heart wanted revenge. But she buried this part, for she knew it was cruel. She knew that somewhere, he was hurting as much as she was. She knew he wasn't lying when he said he loved her. And she felt guiltier and guiltier as she remembered how, for more than three years, she'd strung him along while she had a family and a husband. The sheer grief he must have felt for that long must have more than added up to the pain she was feeling now. Though now, neither of them had anyone to turn to. So she buried this angry part of her. Most of her heart, though, was aching. It was broken, and she knew it would never repair itself. It needed love, sustenance, and she had nowhere to fine any. And though the pain was all consuming and sucked the meaning out of simple daily actions, she managed to overcome it. She was strong. She could overcome even a broken heart, and go on. She sought happiness with her son.

She only dreaded the day when he would no longer need her. Now that he was three, that day was drawing closer and closer. Yes, it would be years yet, but the day was still looming on the horizon. She couldn't imagine what she would do then.

* * *

**More coming soon- thoughts? Thanks for your reviews everyone! I know this chapter is shorter than others have been, but there is more coming soon... :) :) :)**


	11. Recovery

**Again guys, short chapter... However... there's a good one coming soon. ;) I know a lot of people thought this was over... but it's kinda not. Anyway, REVIEWS POR FAVOR!**

* * *

When Marius returned home after that fateful day, he did not know what to do with himself. Usually he just killed time int he days between Cosette's letters, but now he would not receive any more letters. He had seen to that. He thought about getting rid of the letters she'd already sent him- after all, how was he supposed to heal when he had all the memories of their relationship stuffed away in his closet? But he could not do it. They were too precious, held too many important memories to get rid of. Instead, he simply put the box away and tried not to open it too frequently. Then, he laid down on his bed and tried to empty his mind of the image of Cosette sobbing.

While Cosette was healing, so was Marius. After the initial shock and pain of the ending, Marius had taken a few days to collect himself, and then tried to make himself move on. The wound still hurt- it was still hurting over a year later. But he managed to get another job that he enjoyed and that paid more money. He moved out of the one room apartment he rented, and began renting something somewhat larger. He made some friends, and frequently went out with them.

At times, he could go for hours on end without even thinking of her. He wouldn't even notice the pain. But whenever he went home and retired to bed, he would close his eyes and see her face, as though it was imprinted forever in his mind. He would never forget her, never escape from her hold on his heart. He would see her face, usually laughing. But he also had nightmares- he relived the pain of the morning when he left her- the words, the tears, the ache of loneliness.

He always regretted that morning, though he knew it had been the right decision. But it had given him more pain than anything he'd ever done- it was the hardest thing he'd ever had to do. But Marius he liked his new friends, who were intelligent and funny. They would go out to eat or to the theatre, and he always managed to have a good time. At least until one of them would ask him about women, for they always wanted to know why, at twenty-seven, he would never admit whether or not he'd ever been in love with a woman, or ever even been alone with one. But Marius couldn't talk about Cosette to them. He just couldn't reveal what they had together- it had been a secret for so long that talking about it now felt sacreligious. So he never revealed to them that he was, in fact, unable to see any women, because he was forever broken. Instead he just would not answer them.

So they kept suggesting women he should see, and he had to turn down every one for some reason or another. That was painful and tiring- but he couldn't tell them why he was so against seeing other women. But he just couldn't imagine, after what he'd been through with Cosette, trying to find someone else. He would find no one else. No one understood him the way she did, and aside from that he was terrified of girls.

He often wondered what she was doing- was she alright? Was her husband treating her right? And other times he just wanted to talk to her. He'd had the best conversations of his life with Cosette, and he missed being able to tell her anything and have her understand exactly what he meant.

He felt like he was dreamily floating through life- he had his ties, which were work and his friends, but his man reason for being alive was no longer there. He thought of Cosette so much that it was surprising to him when he would remember she was not a part of his life anymore. They'd discovered everything together, and essentially grown up together. He'd been through so much pain with her and so much happiness that her absence made him feel lost.

Still, time went on.

* * *

One day in May of 1837 and fifteen months after he'd ended things with Cosette, he was walking down the street during midday. It was sunny and warm, though now spring seemed sad to him. Cosette was spring, she'd always been spring. He'd fallen in love with her in late spring, spent all those wonderful hours with her in the spring of 1832... and she just acted like spring, with her dewy eyes and bright outlook. So he lost himself in the past for a day, which was not uncharacteristic of him. He bought himself a roll from a bakery and sat down on a bench to eat it, but then he saw a street vendor was selling newspapers. He hadn't read the news in three days, so he bought a copy and sat down to read.

He perused through political stories, and interest stories, and then just starting paging through articles, until he landed on this:

_On May 16, 1837, Captain LaFontau of Paris, France, perished during storms in the English Channel. Three of his crew members also perished when the ship was overrun with water, and four more remain missing. Captain LaFontau leaves behind a bereaved wife and son. The funeral is today at 4 o'clock at St. James' Church._

Marius read and reread the obituary about fourteen times before he realized what it meant: Cosette's husband was dead.

He checked his watch- it was almost three forty-five. He looked down at his clothes- he was wearing black and was in his good suit, with his boots shined. Without thinking again, he began sprinting. If he ran, he could possibly make it. He didn't even know what he was doing, but he knew he had to go.

* * *

**Thoughts?**


	12. The Funeral

**Ten Days Earlier**

Cosette finished braiding her hair back and was ready to retire to bed. She secured the curtains once more, observing the wild storms outside. It had been unusually warm for the season, causing many storms to erupt in the usually rather cold air. A huge thunderclap cut through the night, causing her to jump. Hugging her arms around herself, her thoughts idly wandered to Marcel, who she knew was sailing at the time. But maybe the storms weren't in the English Channel- she mustn't worry, there was no point.

She blew out the candles and tucked herself into bed, but ended up just lying awake. Marcel had been away for a week and a half and was due back in two days. She remembered when his business trips meant days spent hidden away with Marius in the rue Plumet, though now they just meant an even quieter and less interesting house than it once had been. When he went away, Cosette was only reminded of the lover she once had who was now gone, causing that familiar ache to flare up again.

It was true that Julie had been an excellent friend ever since Marius had broken things off- on the morning of the day, when Cosette was crying uncontrollably, Julie had picked her up off the ground, made her tea, and listened to her entire story from start to finish. Cosette had felt better after being reminded that she had a friend in the house- her son was not the only person who cared for her.

But sometimes, late at night like this, Cosette could not help but give into the temptation to think of him. She remembered everything, every moment they had together, every word, every touch. She mostly remembered how it felt when she would wake up in the morning and, before opening her eyes, feel his arms wrap around her. She liked to think of how his hair fell into his eyes when he was holding himself over her, and she would push it back for him, or how his hands trembled the first time he touched her because he was s nervous as she was. Those memories hurt, but she still liked to think of them.

Her thoughts were interrupted when her door opened, and her son toddled into the room, holding his blanket up to his face. He stood at the door, waiting to be invited in. He was dragging his stuffed dog toy by the ears. It looked more like a rabbit now, because the ears were so stretched out from the way he held it. It was quite difficult to find little Marius without Chiot, his little dog (babies weren't the best at naming things). Three months ago, Marcel found it and saw how dirty it was, and insisted on throwing it away, evoking tears from Marius. Marcel told the boy to toughen up, which Cosette found ridiculous- he was barely three at the time. Once Marcel threw it away, Cosette snuck behind him and plucked the toy out of the garbage, washing it and sewing up some of the rips and presenting it anew to Marius, explaining that he'd just gone in for a bath. It warmed her heart to see him carrying the little dog like this in the middle of the night- little boys were so sweet, she decided.

"Maman..." he whined, looking at the windows. Just then, a flash of lightening lit up the room to look like daylight.

"Oh, _ma petite, _come on up," she said, and patted on her bed. He ran over in his little three-year-old way, where his weight shifted comically from foot to foot and he always looked on the verge of falling. She smiled when she had to help him into the bed, for he was still to small to get himself all the way up. Then he snuggled up close to her, held his little baby's blanket up to his face and fell asleep. During the day, he liked to pretend that he was all grown up and a young man, but when storms came, he still needed his maman. And he was still not tall enough to get up into bed all by himself. She was glad he was still small, and she could still lift him whenever she needed to.

A few days later, she was reading when she felt a tug on her skirts. Marius was looking up at her, his dark brown eyes giant.

"Maman, Papa was going to be home yesterday," he said in his tiny voice.

"Yes," she said, surprised he remembered- Marcel hardly ever paid attention to Marius. Sadly enough, he wanted nothing more than the man's love, so anything Marcel did was remembered and cherished by the little boy. Usually what he did consisted of a few words shared here and there, nothing more. "I'm sure he's just running late."

But when he did not return for two more days, she worried. The next day, a man came and reported the news: Marcel's ship had sunk. One man had survived and made it floating on a piece of wood until he came across another boat and washing ashore in England. That man had told the British that Captain LaFontau had perished, and Cosette was soon notified.

When she closed the door on the man, she felt some tears prick into her eyes. She couldn't say she would miss Marcel, for there were too many bad memories to ever really long for him. But she didn't want him to _die. _Having someone die who was so close to you, living in your house and sharing your name... it was rather chilling. It made Cosette quite uncomfortable and was something of a wake-up call. Marcel was dead- death did not just happen to older people.

She remembered when Marius had told her that all his friends had died in the street riots- it had not affected her then, but it sure affected him. She had been a silly seventeen-year-old then. It was now five years later, and she had grown up a lot. She knew more about sadness, and she knew this must have been how Marius thought- except that he had also felt grief for these people. She couldn't bring herself to grieve.

Little Marius did not understand.

"So Papa isn't coming back?" he asked, confused. He was old enough to understand words, but not old enough to understand meanings yet.

"No," she said.

"Will I get a new Papa?" he asked immediately. Cosette gave him a sad smile.

"I don't think so."

* * *

On May 21st, Cosette dressed herself in an elegant black gown and dressed her son just as formally. He looked quite handsome, she decided. It put a smile on her face, something she had to hide when people arrived. She wore a hat with a black veil over the eyes, which was very convenient, because her lack of sadness would not be betrayed. There was no body to bury for it had been lost at sea, but there was a church service. Cosette had to admit that a lack of a coffin seemed almost like the death hadn't happened- there was very little closure.

The priest spoke for a very long time, and she was constantly worrying that Marius would act up. But his nurse was caring for him and he was being a very good boy. Cosette listened attentively to the priest, but her thoughts kept wandering.

Where would she go now? The contents of the will had come out a few days before- she now owned half a million francs, the enormous house, and many, many priceless items that decorated it. Vases, paintings, silver and gold, crystal... She would need someone to assist her in looking after it. She'd already decided to put away a large sum in a trust for her son, one to keep for education and another for when he grew. Other than that, she wasn't sure- she certainly did not need all that.

But aside from money, what would she do? She had no ties, aside from her son. Would she stay in Paris? She thought she would- she knew nowhere else. These were very complicated things to think about.

After the funeral, she stood outside the church. It was like a receiving line after a wedding, only far more tiring. For many, it would be more depressing than one- though Cosette had been so depressed at her own wedding that _this_ one was much more pleasant. It was boring, but she did not feel like she was being sold, as she had on her wedding day.

Countless people came up, gripped her hands weakly, and bid their condolences.

"So sorry, Madame..."

"I know how difficult this must be..."

"My thoughts and prayers are with your family..."

"He was a great man, Madame..."

She had very much lost interest, and wasn't even looking many people in the eye. Then, after she'd shaken about fifty people's hands, someone gripped her right hand with more pressure than anyone else had to that point, seizing her attention. She looked at the hand, and then followed it up the arm she knew well, onto the best-loved face, and the eyes that she would recognize anywhere.

Her heart arrested, and she stopped breathing. She almost fainted from the shock.

"My condolences, Madame," he said politely, and bowed his head. He looked deeply into her eyes for just a moment longer than a common acquaintance should, and she couldn't believe it.

She just got a look at his deep, dark brown eyes before he bowed again and left. She couldn't even catch her breath- he was gone before she had time to say anything.

For the first time in fifteen months, Cosette had looked into the face of Marius Pontmercy.

* * *

**Thanks for the reviews so far- and for those of you still reading... I think people didn't realize the story wasn't over. Well, sucks for them... :) **


	13. Meeting Again

Cosette stood in shock and did not notice the lie of people standing in front of her, trying to bid their own condolences. She felt heat flashing through her body, and felt her temperature fluctuating, and knew her color was rising. Her heart was beating erratically. Just about ten seconds in his presence had done that, and now he was gone already.

He was back- he had obviously seen the obituary, and come. What did that mean? Did he want to be with her again, or did he really just come to bid his condolences? What was wrong with him, running off the way he did without a word? He obviously knew she would want to talk to him! They had so much to talk about didn't they? Maybe he left because he _didn't _want to talk to her. He thought it was his duty to come to the funeral, but he was still solid on his decision to end relations with her.

But that didn't make sense- why would he feel it was his duty to come to the funeral? He had no obligation to go. He obviously wanted her to see him, and wanted her to know that_ he _knew her husband was dead.

What did that mean?

And, for goodness' sake, _why_ didn't he stay to talk to her?

* * *

Cosette spent two weeks in agony over his mysterious appearance- _two weeks!_ He did nothing to explain anything to her, did not show his face again. She did not know whether or not he had the same address, and also did not want to write him. He was the one who sent her into this tizzy, he should take her out of it.

Two weeks later, a letter arrived for her from an address she did not know. The handwriting, however, she _did_ recognize. She was right- he'd moved.

_Madame-_

_If you think it proper, I would like to meet with you for dinner, at your convenience. I would like to hear from you and talk to you again. Of course we shall wait until the accepted time has gone by, as I understand you are in mourning._

_Looking forward to hearing from you._

_Sincerely, _

_M. Marius Pontmercy_

She rose her eyebrows at the letter- it was so formal! But then again, they hadn't spoken in fifteen months- she would have been rather shocked if it was addressed the way their old letters had been. But, despite those fifteen months apart, Cosette knew Marius. She knew that there was a reason he wrote to her now, and the reason was that her husband was dead. He wanted to see her for dinner, and get to know her again. And also, he wanted to see if she still felt the same way about him.

She toyed with him a bit, and did not return his letter for ten days. Of course, it did not matter that much- it would be incredibly improper and insulting to Marcel if they met for at least two months.

She let out a laugh- when had they ever respected Marcel?

Still, she told him that they could meet sometime in July. It felt familiar, suggesting a time to meet months in advance. She also felt the familiar excitement.

And so, she waited anxiously.

* * *

On the day of their meeting, Cosette was incredibly nervous. She ate nothing for breakfast or lunch and felt horribly ill. There was a part of her that did not want to do this at all- a very big part, in fact. But some other part of her was dreadfully curious, and so she went through with it. If she didn't, she would never forgive herself.

She arrived at the restaurant five minutes late on purpose- she meant to be a little later, but was too excited to wait. She only wanted to make sure she did not have to wait for him- and she didn't. She should have known he would be right on time- he was probably there ten minutes _early_.

Seeing him again was moving. They both stood in the entry of the restaurant, and for an immeasurable moment could not tear their eyes from each other. He looked the same- the same thick dark hair, warm brown eyes that pierced her soul, same hands, same posture, the same Marius. He evoked the same things from her too- the erratic heartbeat, flushed face, slippery feeling in her stomach. Nothing had changed. And he was looking at her as though he thought the same thing.

"Hello," he stuttered out awkwardly. That evoked a smile from her, too- he really was the same. "Would you like to... sit down?"

She noticed that he used 'vous' instead of 'tu.' It felt wrong, coming from him, but then again what else should he call her? He would probably call her Madame all evening, as well.

She jumped a little when she went to sit in her chair and he put a hand on her back politely. It also felt the same when he touched her- warmer than it should, like lightening, magical.

He noticed she jumped. "Oh! Sorry, Madame," he said, causing her to flinch.

He noticed that, too. When he sat down, he looked into her eyes with that look he had- the 'we need to talk about something that's going to embarrass you' look.

"Madame," he said again, but she interrupted him.

"Please- don't call me that," she said, not looking at him.

"Then what _should _I call you?" he asked amiably. Obviously he wanted this to run smoothly- but very properly. She almost rolled her eyes- he was still Marius.

_How about Cosette?_ She thought, but knew he wouldn't do that. _Don't you remember me, how I was? When you loved me?_" How about... Mademoiselle?"

That she could live with. Even during their days in the rue Plumet- the beginning ones, when all they did was dream and sit under the stars- he still called her Mademoiselle.

"Alright," he gave in. "Mademoiselle. How are you?"

"I'm doing fine, thank you," she said. "Healthy, and that's what's important. How about you?"

"I'm very well, thank you," he said simply. Then they fell silent again. There was so much Cosette wanted to talk about, and yet the way their conversation was progressing, it seemed that the topics she wanted to get to were impossible, especially if she was going to be polite. So she tried to move things along more quickly.

"What pushed you to come to the funeral?" she pressed, looking at him seriously.

He did not answer for a minute. "I'm not sure, exactly. I saw the obituary in the newspaper not twenty minutes before the funeral, and didn't think about it- I just ran. I knew I had to go."

"I was good to see you," she said, noticing how distant it sounded. She revised. "I never thought I'd see you again, and I was glad I did."

"Were you?" he said curiously, smiling.

"Why-yes. Why shouldn't I be?"

He shrugged. "I'm glad to see you as well."

Again, it was quiet. This was going to get tiring very quickly. There was so much to talk about, and no way to bring it up!

"So... start at the beginning," she prompted. "Tell me everything you've been doing, since..." She couldn't finish, but he knew what she meant. He looked relieved to have a conversation start.

It turned out he was busy, and happy and fulfilled. Cosette listened carefully, but he mentioned no women in his retelling of his year without her- though she wasn't sure he would mention one to her anyway. But knowing him, he wouldn't be meeting her if he was tied to someone else.

"And you?" he asked when he finished. She breathed deeply and told him about her own year- rather boring, actually.

When they were done, they knew all the details of the parts of each other's lives they had missed, but they weren't back to how they were. It was still rather awkward.

"So... what happens now?" he asked, voicing her inner concerns.

She smiled. "I don't know. I mean, I spent months and months thinking about what it would be like to see you again, and here we are, only it's not like how I thought... I guess I expected it to be... different somehow." She expected her comment to only make things more awkward, but he opened up.

"I know what you mean- I thought about this a lot, too. I don't know what I expected, but I thought after all we'd been through, we'd be just like how we were, right away."

"I don't think it's going to be that easy," she said, smiling.

"No. It's not. But... I'm willing. If you are."

Suddenly it didn't seem like they were talking about conversation anymore- more like they were talking about something much deeper.

"I am," she promised.

* * *

Two hours later, they were walking about the city along the Seine. Their words had come more freely and were now talking with easy banter. Neither remembered when it had happened, but they had clasped their hands together. It finally was comfortable again, as if nothing was different, as though they'd subtracted all those years and were children in the rue Plumet again. All their troubles seemed very far away, and they knew each other again.

It was late, though, and soon they had made it back to Cosette's home.

"Thank you for seeing me, Mademoiselle," he said, becoming formal again. She blushed and internally cringed- why did he have to do that?

"I'm glad you contacted me, Monsieur," she said, matching his formality.

"Would you like to see me again?" he asked. "Because I would like to see you."

She smiled warmly. "I would. Soon."

"Tomorrow evening? Same time?"

"Sounds perfect."

And then, as he had done countless times during their visits during the summer of 1832, he leaned down and kissed her hands. She felt her cheeks color, but then just bid him goodnight.

When she retired to bed, she still wasn't sure what was happening. The way they had talked tonight- it had been like they were companions. They still did not mention the years of their affair, funnily enough. The closest they got to mentioning those years was Marius asking about Cosette's son- and that was very indirect.

She would have to see how this played out, because right now it was very confusing. They were not back to how they were- however, Cosette knew one thing.

She knew she'd been right when she told Marius she would never stop loving him. For with every touch, every word he spoke, she reacted in a way that could only be described as instinctual. She was still in love with him, still loved him as much as she did back then. She just couldn't tell him yet.

* * *

**Thanks for continuing to read! More coming soon!**


	14. Marius Again

**Hmm what could possibly happen in this chapter? It's the last major installment, guys... I know, I'm sad too. Give me suggestions of Marius/Cosette fluff to write, please! Also, you guys should write some, since you obviously like you read it... I need something to read too, you know, that's not Javert/Valjean... :o**

**Haha enjoy this chapter! It's probably my favorite, and it's been stewing in my head for months now.**

* * *

When it was halfway through July and Cosette and Marius had been meeting for two weeks, Cosette sat in her boudoir very carefully choosing what to wear. They were meeting on a Sunday afternoon and going to the Luxembourg, where it had all began. Thus far they still hadn't addressed anything about their feelings or their past. However, Cosette sensed that today would be different- why else would he suggest to go to the Luxembourg?

Two hours later, she met Marius in the Luxembourg- it was not too hot, as it usually was in July. Cosette had to admit that walking out in public with him had a thrill for her that had been exciting to explore these past two weeks. They'd always had to hide, and now they didn't. They were free from anyone who would try to break them apart.

So why were they hanging back?

Marius was not talking much; he seemed lost in his own thoughts- not that this was unusual. After they had been walking for about twenty minutes, Marius stopped and gestured to a bench.

She smiled and touched his hand lightly. "That's my bench," she said. "The one where I used to sit with my father."

"It's where I saw you for the first time," he said, and then moved to sit on the bench with her at his side. "Do you remember it?"

"I remember it all," she whispered and looked at him deeply, hoping he would understand what she was trying to tell him.

"Cosette," he began, taking both her hands in his own. "I'm going to lay this all out here for you. Last February, I only ended us because I felt it was the right thing to do at the time. But the situation changed, so I have to tell you now, because I might not get another chance. I love you, Cosette, I always have, and I always will. And I remember every day I spent with you, and I want more time. I want to spend every day with you for the rest of our lives, because we finally have the freedom too."

She was speechless for a long time, trying to get a grip on herself. So many things were running through her brain at one time- she wanted to kiss him, but no, they were in public; she wanted to say yes, she wanted to be with him forever; she wanted to forget all the years they were apart.

"There's someone I want you to meet," she said instead.

* * *

"He's upstairs," Cosette said after she sat Marius down in the parlor of her home. "I'll bring him down."

Marius sat and waited for Cosette to bring her son down, looking about at the extravagant living area. Ornaments covered every inch of the place, and it was so different from everything he knew. He was confused- she did not respond when he'd confessed his feelings for her, she gave him no indication other than that she had brought him here. What did it mean that she wanted him to meet her son?

He couldn't make sense of it before Cosette came back downstairs with a little boy in her arms.

"This is my Marius," she said, looking down at the dark haired boy. Marius smiled at the boy, who hid his face in his mother's hair. "Oh, don't be silly," she said to him, moving her hair behind her shoulders and making him look out. She spoke gently to him and smiled warmly, encouraging Marius Pontmercy to do the same thing. "He's nice, _ma petite, _and his name is Marius too."

She sat down on the couch with her son on her lap and gestured for Marius to join her.

"Here," she said, looking at him meaningfully. "Would you like to hold him?"

Marius was not sure- he had no experience with children, but if Cosette wanted him too, than he would.

"Of course," he said, smiling to hide his nerves.

She set the little boy on his lap, who was now quite offended (obviously he thought he was _not_ a little boy anymore and should not be held).

"Hello," Marius said to the child.

The little boy gave him a careful glance, scrutinizing him for a long time. Marius was starting to grow uncomfortable at the end of this boy's gaze, coming out of familiar dark eyes that was sharp and looked like it missed nothing. "Maman said to be nice to you."

"Oh did she?" Marius said, smiling.

He nodded. "She said to be nice to you because you were special."

"_Did_ she now?" Marius said, smiling again, but this time looking at Cosette, who blushed.

Little Marius was looking at him again. "How old are you?"

This kid made him smile- he was so sharp and seemed much older than three. He looked like he had an agenda. "Older than you."

Cosette's son made a thoughtful face, and then guessed. "You're grown-up. Are you sixteen?"

Marius threw back his head and let out a laugh. "Very close. What do you like to do, little one?"

"I like to play with my toys and with my friend Camille."

"Camille is his nurse," Cosette said with a smile, shaking her head. "And she likes to play with you, too," she said to her son.

"My papa died," little Marius declared.

"I know," Marius said, managing to put a sad look on his face- after all, even though it was good news for him, this little boy might be sad about it. "I'm very sorry."

"It's ok. You don't have to be sorry. See, he never played with me."

Cosette gave him a warning glance, but again it put a smile on Marius' face- he'd never really talked to a child before, but he had a feeling this one wasn't like all the others. He was brilliant, and hoodwinked Marius in a way he hadn't expected. He thought he would be nice to him and find him cute and enjoy him because he was Cosette's son. Instead he found he was genuinely enjoying talking to this child.

Cosette was looking at him very strangly, as though she was waiting for him to say something to her. He had nothing to say just yet, and so he kept listening to the little boy.

"I think you could be my papa now, if you want," he said. Then he nodded, as though he was confident his decision was right. "Just be nice to maman. But you can only be my papa if you promise to play with me-"

"Be polite! You don't want to scare our visitor away," his mother instructed.

"I'm not scared," Marius Pontmercy said.

"Do you want to play with me now?" the boy asked, and Marius looked at him in the face. He looked between Cosette, who was still looking at him as though she was waiting for him to understand something, and the little boy. He saw the boy's face with so much of Cosette in it: the red lips, fair skin, the shape of the chin and nose. But there was more in the dark eyes and the thick black hair, already grown thick and heavy at three. Marius' heart skipped a beat.

"I'll play with you," he said.

"Go get something to play with from the nursery," Cosette instructed. "You can bring it downstairs and play next to us quietly. Be careful on the stairs."

"Ok," he said, and then jumped off Marius' lap, and ran out of the room.

"That child is a piece of work," Marius said, shaking his head and smiling.

"He's very bright," Cosette said, sounding defensive.

"I mean it in a good way. He's hilarious. He's brilliant," Marius said in wonderment.

Cosette sat up straighter, and her grin lit up the room. Marius knew then that he had said the right thing- nothing would make her happier than to hear him complement her son. His opinion was obviously held up high.

They sat quietly for a minute, before Marius finished his thought.

"He's mine, isn't he," he said. It wasn't a question- he knew it was true. He didn't look at her. He couldn't look away from his hands, trying to process knowing he had a child, a son.

"Yes," she said simply.

Finally, he turned. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I didn't want to hurt you-"

"So you didn't tell me I had a _child?" _he demanded/

"No! I... I thought you would ask, when I told you I was pregnant. And when you didn't... I don't know. I didn't want you to know what you were losing. If you had known he was your son, I don't know if the situation would have changed. But instead of losing me, you were also losing him... I wanted to tell you, I did. But when you couldn't see him anyway, I didn't want you to know because I didn't want you to lose anymore than you already had. But every day, I wished for him to know you. But know this: I would have named him for you either way. That has nothing to do with it. I'm just very glad he can finally know you."

He didn't respond, still busy processing the immense realization.

* * *

She'd known from almost the beginning. When she had first gotten married and when she'd lost her virginity, she knew that people did _that _to make children, but she had no idea exactly how it all happened, the details and such.

So the time had gone this way. She and Marcel slept together one night, and the next day her monthly time had come. It lasted about a week, and then Marcel left her alone the week afterwards, going out with mistresses and such. Next we went away for a week and a half, and she spent that time with Marius. When Marcel returned, he was not feeling well, and slept in a different bedroom until his fever went down. By the time he was feeling better, she'd started feeling ill and dizzy.

She suspected right away, but didn't _know._ It was Julie who told her that the symptoms she was experiencing were that of pregnancy.

When Julie had discovered she and Marius in the garden and Cosette was 'outted,' Cosette realized she now had a friend in the house. It was Julie who Cosette asked for details.

"How, exactly does it happen?" Cosette asked nervously.

Julie explained the more scientific details that Cosette didn't know. It was Julie who confirmed with her information that the child could not be Marcel's.

Cosette's stomach knotted. "What do you do if you think the child is not your husband's?" Cosette asked.

"You keep your mouth shut and hope to God he looks enough like him that he doesn't suspect," Julie said, and that was what Cosette did.

* * *

"I knew from the beginning, but then when he was born... he was all I had of you. He looks like you, do you see? And he's like you, too. He's smart, and he's a thinker. He's quiet, too- only more outspoken than either of us, sometimes. He's my little blessing, and I don't know what I would have done without him in the past three years... especially this year," she admitted.

Then he returned, carrying a bow of wooden toys, which he proceeded to show the man he did not yet know was his papa.

"Will you come over and play every day?" he asked Marius, who could not stop marveling at this creation he and Cosette had made.

_I'll come every day if it means I can see Cosette every day, _Marius thought. _And you, little boy. I want to see you, too. _It surprised him how quickly he was attached to the child, never having had any interest in children before. He was already entranced by him. The child was enchanting, and the thought of he and Cosette having a child was rather appealing.

"If your mother will allow it," he said, smiling mischievously at Cosette.

"Only..." the little boy said, pouting out his lip as he realized something. Then he sat up straighter and tried to sound threatening. "You can only be my papa if you're nice to my maman. And if you play with me. But you have to be nicer than my old papa, or you can't be my new papa. That's the rule. And I decided it- it's my rule and you can't break it. Because if you do, you'll make maman cry like she used to- I know, I saw-"

"Hush!" Cosette exclaimed, silencing the boy. She was surprised he even noticed her unhappiness, he was such a small child. She put a hand on his soft little head and touched his hair, smiling. It was such a motherly gesture, and it clutched at Marius' heart.

"I understand," he said to the little boy. "You're the man of the house."

Marius looked at Cosette, until she looked him in the eyes. Then he continued. "Don't worry, _petite._ I won't ever hurt your mother again."

* * *

Soon it was time for little Marius' nap, and after Cosette sent him upstairs and noted he would stay there, she sat down next to Marius Pontmercy with a serious look on her face.

"I need to talk to you," she said.

"Really?" he finished sarcastically, but then rephrased to sound gentler. "There's a lot to talk about."

She turned to face him, and took his hands in her own. "About what you said before," she began, taking a deep breath. "I didn't respond right away, because I wanted you to see Marius first, and I wanted you to understand. And I want you to know that no matter what my feelings for you, I will not ever put him aside. He's my son and I'd do anything for him, and if you want me, you have to take him, too. And I don't just mean tolerate him. I want him to be happy, and to have everything in this world that he should have. I love him so, so much, and I know I can't ask you to be everything that he missed out on for three years. I can't throw this responsibility at you this way and expect you to have to step up and be a father without any sort of guidance but... I won't give him anything less than he deserves, either. We go together, we're a pair. So he comes with me."

She bit her lip then. "Did I say too much?"

He shook his head. "No. No, you didn't. I agree with everything you said- I wouldn't have expected anything less from you. You're his mother now, and that's your responsibility. And if I'm his father, then that's my responsibility, too. If you'll let me have it. I want to be here for both of you, and take care of you like I should have, like I've _always_ wanted to. It doesn't feel like responsibility- it feels like I'm finally doing what I'm supposed to. I hated losing you, Cosette, and I won't do it again. Let me stay."

"You really want to?" she asked tentatively.

"I want _you_," he finished. "And everything that comes with it. Yes, he's a bit of a surprise, but we would have had children together anyway, wouldn't we? And he's a fantastic little boy- I'm committed to this completely. Me, you, a family."

She smiled at the last word. "We are, aren't we?"

He nodded. "But you still haven't said it yet."

"What?" she asked.

He gave her a begging look, and gestured his head, like she was missing something obvious.

She threw her head back enchantingly and laughed.

"I love you too. Always and forever, just like I promised you all those years ago. I want you to stay with me."

But she didn't say anything else, for he had easily silenced her with a kiss.

* * *

**Thanks for your responses so far! I really liked writing this. I'm going to do an epilogue, but you just found out the biggest piece of the puzzle. There will be another update though. :)**

**Thoughts? REVIEWS? Hahahaha**

**Thanks you guys! Love!**


	15. Epilogue

**Six Months Later**

"Can you believe it?" Marius asked Cosette as he led her away from the small party for their friends. She nodded.

"I can, only because it's what I've been praying for since I was seventeen," she answered.

"I told you that one day you'd be Madame Pontmercy," he whispered, and leaned down to kiss her.

They had just been married- they waited six months out of propriety, but they were content to marry right away. They had moved out of the giant house, because Marius did not want to live in the same house as Cosette's other husband had. She agreed wholeheartedly. They moved into a smaller, more welcoming place that was more suited to their needs. Julie remained their maid.

They had arranged for all of the proper agreements to be drawn up surrounding little Marius. As Marius Pontmercy really was his father, his birth certificate was revised and his name officially changed to Marius Pontmercy- which got rather confusing. However, the child was still young enough to welcome these changes and not even notice them too much. He called Marius 'papa' readily and easily, something that probably would not have happened had he been a few years older.

One day a few months before the wedding, Marius Pontmercy the elder was making good on his agreement and was sitting on the floor playing with his son.

"Marius," Cosette called, then started giggling hysterically when both of them looked. "I'm sorry- you cannot even imagine how long I've wanted to do that."

However, on the night of February 12th, 1838, little Marius was being cared for by his nurse and was out of the way once the party was over, and the newlyweds were off by themselves.

They had gotten engaged very quickly after that day when Marius learned of his child, but he still lived separately and only came to visit during the day. Despite the numerous times they had slept together during the years of their affair, they refrained from having any kind of improper relations until they were married.

"We can finally do something the right way," Marius said. "Get engaged, wait until we're married, have a wedding, and pretend it did not take us over six years to get here."

And when they were finally alone and taking advantage of that, Cosette's soul was filled up. When they were lying together afterwards, their bodies melded together perfectly, their skin touching, their breathing synchronized, Cosette realized it was the first time in two years that they had been together this year. It had been too long, no doubt- however, at that particular moment, there was absolutely nothing she could wish for. Marius' arms were around her as he fell asleep, her son was peaceful downstairs, they lived in a wonderful, warm home and had everything they ever needed. It had taken six years to happen- six long, hard, tear-filled years.

But it had been worth it.


End file.
